


From The Brink

by HikaruAdjani



Series: My Pillar, My Beacon [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: AU, F/M, Post Kotor, TSL does not exist.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9205121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikaruAdjani/pseuds/HikaruAdjani
Summary: Short story bridge between My Pillar, My Beacon and the upcoming sequel Veil From My Eyes.  AU.  Post Kotor





	1. Chapter 1

Carth Onasi woke to the sound of muted laughter and for a long moment he couldn't decide if it was real or remnants of his quickly fading dream. He was in his bed in his Brentaal quarters, and it seemed wrong to be here. It was wrong for him to be alone, but he hadn't been alone when he'd fallen asleep, or had he been? He sat up, picking up the pillow on the other side of the bed and burying his face in it. He was awake and he could definitely smell the scent of Sarah's hair. It was real. And that made the voices, the soft laughter, real. The marks on his flesh made the laughter real. The stiff catch in his stride when he slid from the bed and moved to the door made the laughter real. 

He dressed and opened to the door to a scene of domestic chaos, exactly as it should be. His quarters were for a single man...his rank had given him a nice apartment, but it had definitely not been meant for him, his fiancee, his son, and his soon to be adopted daughter. Four adults or damned near adults were crammed into this tiny space, and he absorbed the tableau laid out before him. The two teenagers were seated at the tiny table, heads close together as they both stared at the same screen. And watching maternally over them was the most reviled being in the galaxy, thankfully assumed by most to be safely dead. Sarah, her hair up in a messy knot at the back of her head, dressed in loose clothes, was leaning against the wall with her caf mug in her hand. She looked so damned ordinary. She could walk down any street in the Republic and not gain a second look, she looked just the same as any woman in everyday clothes, any wife, any mother, any worker, any citizen. Even her eyes were returning to their normal color, they'd been yellow as recently as her stay on Coruscant, but he recognized their current muddy brown as the shade between that yellow and her usual gray. 

“Morning, babe.” He greeted and she smiled at him in response. “You got that?” He waved a hand at the kids and they both stared at him. Depending on whatever it was they were studying, he would either be quite adept or completely hopeless. But he was uncertain how much of an education that Jedi normally got in the first place, and how much that Sarah could recall of what she had gotten. Mission had never had an education. Dustil's had been interrupted by the destruction of his homeworld and his capture. And Carth's had been simply middle of the road, so much of it was self taught, or Navy cram courses focused on piloting, navigation and command. He was an ordinary man from an out of the way world that had specialized in agriculture. 

“I think so.” Sarah shrugged, “And even if I don't...it's time for these two to go to someone who should.” There was the slightest edge of a command in that, something that Dustil picked up on immediately. It was odd to see him comply so quickly, tucking his last slice of toast in his teeth, gathering up his backpack and jacket and heading for the door. But Sarah was not his mother, not even truly his step mother...she was his master. They had a relationship that Carth would never understand and knew better than to try. He understood Mission's response much more, the wrinkled nose, the edge of rebellion rising in her eyes, but she had no chance to work that once Sarah had turned away from her...and Carth only shook his head and shrugged when Mission unleashed the pitiable stare on him. “School.” He growled when she kept trying. He wasn't that much of a pushover. She rolled her eyes at him, added a gusty sigh for emphasis, but gathered up her belongings and followed Dustil out of the apartment. 

“Poor, poor Mission.” Sarah chuckled after the door closed behind her. “Never really gave much thought to what would happen afterward.” 

“Did any of us? Really?” He sat at the chair that Dustil had just vacated, watching the expressions flow across her face. No, they'd had hopes and dreams, shadowy goals to keep them going through the worst of times. He'd proposed to her, told her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but even then it had seemed nebulous. It wasn't much of a reach to make that commitment when he honestly had felt that the rest of his life wasn't going to be long at all. But now, that doubt lifted. 

She smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “No, my dear. We didn't. That was hidden from me just as much as it was hidden from you. Makes it all the sweeter.” 

Yes, it did. They'd come so far, achieved so much, all without any real expectation of getting through it all intact. Or mostly intact, he wasn't the only one who looked like he'd been a chew toy for a rancor, Sarah had come out the other side looking worse than he did. He hadn't pressed for details and she hadn't offered, but he had eyes. Something terrible had happened to her in the very short time she'd been away from him on the Star Forge, something had left that latticework of burned scars across her back. He could only take comfort in the fact that she'd given as good as she'd gotten...nothing remained of the Star Forge and whatever she'd run into on it. Bastila had looked dubious, shaken her head slowly when he'd asked if those marks on Sarah had been inflicted by a lightsaber...by Malak directly. And there simply hadn't been enough time for Carth's worst nightmares, no matter what his imagination tried to kick up. She had only been out of their sight for half an hour or so. Whatever had happened had happened quickly and been over, and he knew she'd confronted and killed Malak during that half hour...

“You're thinking.” Her voice was darkened with disapproval and he simply shrugged. Yes, she had been Darth Revan. Yes, she still breathed so much of what had made her that, but he was not afraid of her. He knew he probably should be, but he wasn't, and refused to try to be. 

“I do that sometimes. But only sometimes.” 

“Hmm.” She was not impressed with his attempt at levity. “Spit it out.” 

“We came off of the Star Forge intact...mostly. I was wondering about your back. Wondering if Malak...?” 

She sighed, collecting the abandoned dishes from the table and stacking them. “I ran headlong into the Forge's ability to manufacture its own security droids in a hurry. It took me a few minutes to sideline that ability. So no, it wasn't as...impressive...as fending off the Dark Lord of the Sith with lightsabers, but still quite effective. That son of a bitch just did not want to face me head on...even after I was broken. I suppose I should be flattered.”

That had happened before she'd even found Malak. She'd been chewed up and losing blood going into the fight, and she'd still won. Broken, her memory devastated, injured, and she'd still dragged Malak down. “You are something else again.” 

“And don't you forget that.” 

“Like I could.” He was blessed to have her. She'd brought him to life again, given him a purpose, hope, his son and a family again. “I want to marry you, Sarah.” It had been said before, of course, but like so much of that...everything had been couched in the realization that it was probably not going to happen. The chances that both of them would survive had been slim and they'd understood it. Now it became real, or it fell apart. 

“Understood.” That was not the answer he was expecting and he he watched her carefully. That was not a yes...not a no...simply a statement that she heard him. 

“Sarah?” 

“The Temple on Coruscant requests my presence now that I am, as they put it, recovered enough. I only wish I knew...what they knew. I smell a trial, but I can't hide from them. My actions on Rakata Prime...with Malak...were not designed to keep me hidden. I will go to answer for my...” Her voice faded off and his heart became leaden in his chest. Crimes? Indiscretions? Sins? He was all too aware of them all, all too aware of how someone on the outside could judge her. He'd been there, he'd done that himself. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen this coming; he was hopeful, not stupidly naive. 

“I will...” What? Go with her? He knew he wasn't, and even if he did, he'd be worse than useless. He needed to stay here on Brentaal. He needed to hold the course and take care of the children. He needed to remain the steadfast, reliable soldier that he'd always been. He was pretty much guaranteed the Cross of Glory, pretty much guaranteed Admiral. And those were things that could help pull Sarah...Revan...out of deep, deep shit. He needed to be a supporter. Throwing it away to chase her sounded lovely, but he knew better. He'd never been the sort of man to throw his weight around because of rank or awards before, but he'd do it for her any day. “Stay here.” Well, it did at least get a laugh out of her, she burst into a deep belly chuckle. It was, as always, a glorious sound. 

He stood, wrapping his arms around her. All he wanted to do was make her happy and keep her safe. That should be easy. It wasn't. The things standing in his way were just so big, but they'd already made it through the impossible, now they were just dealing with the improbable. And anyway, she was Revan, a force unto herself. Even though he knew he should be upset, get upset, he just couldn't manage. And it was always like that when she was close. He'd follow her to hell, he'd already done it. Now he just had to follow her back from the brink. 

“I love you. And I'll be there, wherever you need me.” She knew that, of course, but it still soothed him to say it to her aloud. 

“We'll get through this, Carth. Trust me.” 

Of course he trusted her. He trusted her like he'd never trusted another living person in his life. He trusted her with everything he held dear, and he was going to keep trusting her. “When are you going?” He knew the answer already. Sarah did not hesitate, if there was a battle to be joined, she'd join it. Waiting did none of them any good, the Temple was not going to forget about this. All that would do was put off the inevitable and Sarah was terrible at that. She proved the point when she looked away from him, trying to cushion the answer, and he nodded. “I'll go with you to the spaceport, then.” It was hard to realize what he was saying, the idea of letting go of her now was terrible. He'd brought her home. That should be the end of this, but it wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah fought to keep a calm exterior, gazing around the Brentaal Naval Spaceport, because she was anything but calm on the inside. She wanted to scream, to rage, to tear at her hair and demand an explanation from the very sky above her. She was not surprised or even caught off guard by the steel words of the 'request' to report to the Temple but that didn't mean she wanted to reply to it. She wanted to stay here, with Carth. With the kids. Trying to put together a real life from the shattered pieces she had left at her disposal. But no. 

Carth was trying so hard to be strong, to look like he wasn't scared. She knew better, she could feel it in the very air around him. He was scared. And like her, he was resentful. Well, those she understood all too well. But it didn't matter. She was coming back in one piece to pick up where they left off at. She just couldn't make the same guarantee for those who were going to be dealing with her. “I've got this.” She murmured to him and he nodded slightly. He just needed to have faith in her and she just needed to have self control. She couldn't go in front of the Council with carnage in her heart, as tempting as it was. 

“I know.” 

“If this goes badly, meet me on Nar Shaddaa. The last apartment we were at, go there and I will find you.” Here was not the place, now was not the time to show doubts to him. Obviously, if the Temple were intent to keep her, she was not going to be showing up at Nar Shaddaa...at least not until she managed to get loose. She was confident that she could, eventually, get loose from even the Temple...if they didn't pull another fast one like the Dantooine Enclave had with her. And that was a terrible idea, she couldn't do that again. Losing Carth, the very memory of him, would destroy her. “Just remember...the Jedi do not execute their prisoners.” 

“That is so very not funny.” He groused back, she knew he was well aware that was what had started this whole mess in the first place. But in 'following' that precept, the Dantooine Enclave had done the unforgivable with her. They'd succeeded and she had to give them credit for that, they'd done desperate things in a desperate time. That, at least, she understood. Although she'd never admit it aloud, she would have done the same damn thing. It didn't mean she forgave them, though, and it was a deep insight into how they had lost so many of their crop to the dark side. She had been one of them, but for the life of her, she could not remember the how and why of it all. That was all a tightly held blank, nothing she was allowed to see or know anymore. And that was fine as long as she could be here, with Carth. She was willing to step away from it all if they'd only let her. She glanced around the spaceport, trying to wrap herself up in its reality. This was normal. Everyday. The trip between Brentaal and Coruscant was short and well traveled, both Core worlds, both on the Permelian Route. She'd be there in just a matter of hours instead of days, she wouldn't even have a cabin...only a seat. 

She had chosen to wear her abbreviated short robes, the ones that said “Well, I might be a Jedi...or might just like the look of one...” There was no doubt that she was armed, and no doubt that she'd have to get her sabers through security. But she wasn't going to the Temple without them, that would just be...wrong. She just didn't know what she was anymore. Was she still a Jedi? Not? It was all such a mess. 

If they were that terribly worried about you, they wouldn't have let you leave Coruscant to make the trip to Brentaal in the first place... Creating Sarah out of the shattered remains of Darth Revan had been the Dantooine Enclave's handiwork, but the Temple on Coruscant had been the ones to tend her immediately upon her return to the Core worlds. They'd had her at one of her most vulnerable points and they'd let her go. She just needed to keep that in her mind...

“There's your boarding call. Contact me when you can, okay?” 

“Will do.” It was odd to leave him, she'd been in and out of consciousness when she'd been taken to Coruscant instead of Brentaal, so she'd never really committed to leaving his side. That had been someone else's decision made on her behalf. It certainly had not been Carth's idea, either. “I love you.” She was not going to sound dire. Absolutely not. 

“I love you too, Babe. See you when you get back.” 

Yes, one way or the other. She watched him walk away from her, fighting the urge to go after him, and pulled her identification out of her pocket. Hopefully, hopefully, this would work. She was dead on her actual id and had serious doubts if she'd answer to her own name if someone called it. That was the past denied to her now. 

She got into the line at its tail, well aware she was a security nightmare and unwilling to hold things up any more than she was already going to. At least these other people could take their seats, make the flight, if she couldn't. It would be great if she was denied boarding, then she could just...go home. At least until the Temple sent a ship to come get her, with a Jedi handler...no. This was the best way to do this. 

The attendant glanced up at her when she rested her id on the counter, and she gave him a faint smile. It had taken some doing to get her eyes to finally switch back over to their natural color...happy thoughts and such...hopefully they were still what they were supposed to be...still what her id said they were. “Morning.” She greeted the Duro, feeling her 'I am normal' camouflage settle around her. She had been blessed with a perfectly average countenance, unremarkable in every way. What better way to hide Revan? 

“Good morning. Are you carrying any foodexplosivesweaponsundeclaredmoneyordrugs?” 

“Yes.” That admission finally got his full attention and he regarded her warily. He slid a basket across the counter and she sighed...she'd never liked giving away a lightsaber, even very temporarily and ordinarily she would have had the 'I'm a Jedi!' status to back her up. Now, she wasn't so certain. She placed the pair of them in the basket, eying them regretfully. They were hers, intrinsically part of her. Even more than the lightsaber she'd carried through the mission to the Star Forge, these were the sabers she'd been born and forged to carry. “Don't kill yourself with those.” 

It was obvious he was not going to kill himself with them because he wasn't going to even touch them...pushing the basket right back at her. “Silly Jedi.” He muttered under his breath. “Any other foodexplosivesweaponsundeclaredmoneyordrugs?” 

“No.” She reclaimed them from the basket, running her fingertips over the flowing floral pattern carved into their sides. These were beyond precious, they were irreplaceable. She could not return to the Star Forge to replace the crystals within them, it was gone. “Nothing like that.” Jedi? Was he willing to accept her as that simply from her noncommittal clothing and two lightsabers? She doubted that, but he was utterly convinced that she was one...she could skim that off of the top of his thoughts. Ah. Her id had been flagged as such, probably by the Temple. Well, whatever worked was good, she just wanted to get this over with. 

It took much less time than she was dreading, she was moved onto the transport quickly and shown to her seat. Being alone was bizarre, it wasn't her normal state, and for most of the cohesive remains of her memory, she'd been with people...with Carth. Her reality truly started with him, everything else was shadows, ghosts of a fading dream. She was almost forty but her memories only encompassed a couple of years. It was suddenly almost overwhelming and she closed her eyes against it. 

I am okay. I am Sarah, Carth's beloved. I have to be strong, for him. I have to come out the other side, for Dustil. No one else can be his master. He is the most vulnerable one in this whole mess. 

It was just her luck to be seated surrounded by a very excited family, the three children on their first ever space voyage and more than happy to let Sarah...and everyone else around them...know that. Loudly. 

There is no emotion, there is only peace. Well, that was obviously not the truth here. Had she ever had that kind of patience? 

No. 

Well, no big surprise there. Nothing in her own press made her believe she'd ever been anything but a weapon, pretty much unchanged except for the dogma of the...

Her surroundings blurred and she sat up suddenly, scrambling to push that away. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. Not without a comrade to pick her up. That should have gone away when she'd remembered who and what she was. But that was the point...she hadn't remembered. Not truly. She was a collection of boxes, most securely taped up with labels that screamed 'Do not open!', while only the uppermost, most recent ones had been delved into. 

The sticky warm grip of a toddler jolted her back into reality and centered her. She stared into the wide brown eyes of the owner of the warm and sticky grip, an entranced, curly haired cherub who obviously found her much more interesting than the chaos of its own family. It was mostly clean and its mother was distracted with the older siblings, so Sarah let it find its way into her lap. She was fairly certain it was a little boy, but it was at that age when it was damned difficult to tell without peeking. All she knew was that it was very grounding, very difficult to fall when her lap was filled with child. And honestly, although the details were blurred, she knew she'd always been fairly good with children. She'd never had to do more than her fair share of creche duty in the Enclave to teach her how to care for another living sentient. 

“Oh, I am so sorry! I mean...” The child's mother had returned with its siblings in tow. 

“He's fine where he is.” Definitely fine, in fact Sarah was certain he'd fallen asleep. And asleep meant they were down to only two mobile and loud small ones in the vicinity. 

I want... 

Yes, well, that was one of those things that needed to be tamped down and dealt with later...assuming that there was a later. For all of the brave face she'd put on with Carth, for all of the contingency plans she'd given him, this had her worried. There was a good, good chance that she wasn't coming out of the Temple. 

No. Even I have to tear the Temple down around their ears, I will be coming home. She still had resources at her disposal and if cornered, she'd definitely use them. Things were not over, yet. She'd brought them to the brink before, if they would not let her live what little she had left of her own life again, she'd simply repeat the process. Now that she knew she still had followers, knew the name of at least one of the force sensitive ones, she could sense them. They'd been pulled out of the Star Forge during its fall and they were still out there, waiting. Now, they even knew she was still alive...

The chime of the landing approach bell brought her out of her reverie and she shifted the boneless toddler back to his mother's care. It was time to go get this started.


	3. Chapter 3

Her escort, her welcoming party, stood out like a sore thumb and she sighed. Of course there would be one and of course, he would be Jedi. Obviously so. He stood like he had been raised on a steady diet of the Code all wrapped up in robes, but then, he probably had been. And she probably had been as well...if she could only remember it. But even when she had been able to remember it, she'd still strayed. That, she was certain of. 

“Amasri Idarn?” He was a good looking example, tall, thin, watchful...and he just breathed serenity from every pore. He was just so very, very, very trustworthy. She pushed that away, she was not some young one to fall for that and she honestly didn't think he even realized he was doing it. He gave her a once over and she wondered if he even knew who...what...she was. Surely if he did, she would have gotten more of a measurement than that fleeting skim of his eyes... 

“If that's what you want to call me.” It didn't really matter which of the names the Temple used... Amasri Idarn, Revan, Sarah... They were all just labels for her. It was her first name and it only made sense that it was how the Temple identified her. She supposed it was probably still her legal name, since there was nothing legal in her flimsy 'Sarah' identity. 

“Is that not your name? You are the one that the Temple sent me to meet?” 

He's clueless. So the Temple was still taking this softly, they'd sent an escort to meet her and bring her along, and they'd chosen a very gentle one at that. Nothing about him felt like a Jedi chosen to bring Darth Revan to trial for all of her crimes and sins. “It was my name, once.” She picked up her case, stepping into place beside him. “I am the person that they've sent you to meet here.” That was all he really needed to know. 

He obviously puzzled over her replies, his brow furrowed. “Are you hungry? I don't know how long you traveled to get here.” 

“I've come from Brentaal. And yes, I am hungry.” Dealing with Jedi masters always went over better on a full stomach. Dealing with a trial required that and a dessert. Or two. She was really, really getting too old for this...

“Ah, Brentaal, not too terribly far. I'm Luel. If you do not go by Amasri, what should I call you?” 

Are we going to actually need to call each other by comfortable names? He certainly seemed to think so, or he was merely being terribly polite. “Sarah. I go by Sarah. So is the Temple picking up the check?” 

Again, that puzzled look. He really, really didn't know what he'd been sent to do, here. It was either funny or sad, Sarah wasn't certain which one she wanted to settle on. “Yes.” He finally stated, his gaze locked on her face. She wondered if her emotions were stamped on her eyes, she could keep her expression placid and unreadable, but her eyes often betrayed her. She had been teetering on the edge since coming back, it was so difficult to scramble back from cavorting with the dark side, but it had been necessary. She knew it. Carth had known it. This one would not understand. 

“Good.” She chuckled. If the Temple was footing the bill, then it would definitely be two desserts. And a repeat of the wonderful Telosian cuisine that Carth had introduced her to the last time she'd been here. “I know just the place.” That brought worry to his eyes, but she was fairly certain it wasn't exorbitantly pricey. Although with Carth...it just might have been. It had been the dinner he'd promised her for weeks, months, one hope to hold onto, it might have been a major extravagance. 

Actually, it turned out to be a hole in the wall set up off of a main throughway, and it obviously concerned her keeper. He measured everything, tracking the people on the street, but Sarah sensed no danger. Maybe he had been told who she was and he was wise enough to worry about the dread Darth Revan taking him into a slightly low brow family owned restaurant. Although if she wanted to take him, a well lit and traveled boulevard was not going to save him. “Relax.” She chuckled, “It's just a restaurant. I promise, you and I can probably take on the entire block.” No probably about it, but she didn't need to oversell herself here. “I'm not going to run. If I meant to do that, I wouldn't have come to Coruscant in the first place. I'd've made the Temple chase me down...or try to.” She could have run. They'd never find her if she had really tried to vanish, there were so many places she could go and disappear into, never to be seen or heard from again. 

“You make it sound like you think you're in trouble.” He settled slowly down across the small table from her, his back to the wall, while Sarah gleefully surveyed the menu. The place was a dump and she loved it. It was worn, sad, a little desperate...run by refugees from Carth's homeworld. The homeworld that Malak had...

Nope. Not going there. She shut the train of thought down, forcing her attention back on the food. Back on the memories of Carth bringing it to her while she had been recovering, the wine...the flowers...the cake. I am loved. 

“I'm pretty sure the Temple hasn't called me here to pat me on the back and give me an atta girl.” Carth would get the back pats and the atta boys, and he deserved them. She'd just be happy to come out the other side of this alive and free. She liked to think she deserved that, well...maybe. At the very least, Carth deserved that. He wanted her back. 

“I would not know.” Luel answered, finally giving his attention to the menu as well. “All I know is that my master asked me to pick you up at the spaceport, perhaps buy you dinner, and bring you to the Temple. No mention of any trouble. Why did you pick this place?” 

“It's my fiance's favorite restaurant on Coruscant. It reminds me of things I need to remember going into this.” She would be what Carth needed her to be, whether he liked it or not. 

“Fiance? But...?” It was funny. She'd staggered him to the point that even his almost perpetually puzzled look failed completely. “Aren't you Jedi? Aren't you one of us?”

No. Not in the way that he meant. She could even start to remember when that part of it had broken...what had happened after the War was still a complete and total blank, darkness she could not see into, but she could begin to see what had happened before the War, during it. Those had been her decisions and she owned them. Things after that were less comprehensible, there was the underlying layer of compulsion that left her queasy and panicked. I did not do things of my own free will... “I've broken with the Order.” Well, that was one way to put it. 

“Oh.” There was a depth of sadness and loss in that single syllable and she merely grinned at him as their waitress laid down drinks and took their orders. Leaving the Order was not a loss, it was her only hope. Only her family...Carth, Dustil, Bastila, all of them, could pull her up out of the darkness. Not the Order. They'd become strangers to her somewhere along the way, and the Enclave had done desperate and regrettable things to her, things she would probably never recover completely from. And she wasn't certain just which faction in the Order was to blame... how much had the Temple here known of what the Enclave on Dantooine was up to? She suspected they hadn't known a thing, but she didn't know. And she shouldn't assume anything. 

Hubris has brought you to your knees before. 

That insight was perfectly alone, crystal clear, spoken directly from the Force itself and she nodded to herself. There was obviously a history there, but that had been excised from her unreliable past and shown to her in clarity. And she could see it...she'd been very full of herself coming off of the War, after Malachor. She'd felt like...it had not been...quite...finished. Something... The world hazed around her, darkened, and filled with a rushing, deafening noise...

“Hey! Don't do that...whatever that was! Are you alright?” She'd started to slide...literally...under the table and Luel moved to push her back upright again. She preferred his puzzled stare to his frankly concerned stare, now that she'd gotten to experience both of them. Puzzled meant she was in control, concerned meant she had lost control. She just wanted to go home, she didn't need to play these games with Carth or Dustil. 

“I'm fine.” This was going to be a long, long trip and she almost regretted suggesting eating out. She could have had a nice, reflective, solitary meal at the Temple...

No. You must hold Carth close. You're not some thing that can't be trusted in public. You are Sarah Onasi. You cannot get through this as Revan. You don't even remember being Revan after Malachor. 

And that was everything...Revan after Malachor. It was that part of her life that she wasn't allowed to know, but it was the real reason why she had been called before the Temple here. She was going to go into this blind. She was going to stand trial here and not even remember the worst of the things that she knew she'd done.


	4. Chapter 4

Carth would have given almost anything to have accompanied Sarah to Coruscant, they hadn't made it this far alone and his place was by her side. I swore I wouldn't do this again. I swore I'd be a better husband this time. He'd left Morgana behind and had told himself it was his duty, his responsibility to serve. And he regretted it, every single day of his life. Even after finding Sarah, loving her, it still haunted him. But here he was, doing the same damned thing all over again...with Sarah. 

“Dad?” He'd been so wrapped up in himself that he'd missed Dustil's return from school. Dustil was alone, without the warning bell of Mission, and he came in a coat of silence. It was so odd to try to come to grips with the difference that the years on Korriban had crafted in his only child. Only Sarah had the chance and hope of truly understanding Dustil now... 

“Yes?” 

“What's wrong? Where's Sarah? I can't sense her presence and you feel like you do when you think of mother...” Dustil rested his pack on the table and stared at Carth. “She...?”

“Was called to the Temple at Coruscant. We knew this was coming.” Well, yes, that was true. He hadn't really wanted to face it, but he'd known it was coming...eventually. Bringing Revan home was not something that could be ignored or overlooked. Hiding the fact that Sarah was Revan was also not something he saw happening, especially now that they were back and he'd had time to go through what could go wrong. Eventually, even if Master Vandar had not survived Rakata Prime, she'd be recognized. She'd served with the Republic Navy for years before she'd become the complete Revan, mask and all. 

“I see. I should be beside her...” Dustil frowned and Carth rested his hand on his son's shoulder. 

“I know exactly how you feel.” For once, that was the absolute truth. There had always been a distance between him and Dustil, resentment and awkwardness, a gulf he couldn't reach across...until now. 

“Ha. For once, you're the one left staying at home. But yes, we should be there. We'd do her absolutely no good there, but we should be there.” He shrugged, grimacing. “She's the boss, though.” 

“Yes, yes she is, especially when it comes to dealing with the Jedi.” 

“Until we have to go get her.” Dustil ended his thought sourly and Carth snorted in half baked amusement. Go get Sarah? From the Temple? That was not even possible...or was it? “It's possible. It would be bloody, but doable. Hopefully it is not the route we end up taking.” Dustil pondered it for a moment and honestly, Carth did not want to know. There were certain things he was better off being oblivious to and that definitely seemed to be one of them. He did the flying when they were in impossible situations, that was his job. 

No, your job is to remind Sarah that she is not Revan...or rather, not Darth Revan. And it is a full time and often thankless task. 

And he was not there to do it. 

“She'll be fine.” It was Dustil's turn to rest a hand on Carth's shoulder, somewhere along the way, he'd gotten taller than Carth. He was still slimmer than his father, but Carth had been a thin one well into his twenties. “The Jedi are eternal optimists. All she has to do is tell them the truth. She doesn't remember being a Darth. The Enclave shattered that in her.” There was regret there and Carth had to remember that Dustil had been trained on Korriban, not Coruscant. He would have been trained to hold a Darth in high regard. 

“You know I've asked her to marry me.” It wasn't as difficult a statement as it might have been, Dustil had already come under Sarah's authority much more deeply than just as her stepson. She was in a much better position to handle any resentment from Dustil than Carth happened to be. 

“I know. And she'll marry you unless the Force warns her not to. She loves you. She relies on you. You love her. You rely upon her.” He found something amusing in that and Carth stared back at him. He'd never really gave much thought to the 'I intend to marry again' discussion. He'd never intended to pick up the pieces of his life and he'd come to grips with the thought that he'd never see Dustil alive again. In the space of just a few months, all of that had changed and he was still trying to absorb it. 

“What's so funny?” He'd been steeling himself for a lot of reactions, resentment, anger, betrayal...he knew that while things seemed placid on the surface, Dustil still carried a lot of that. It had all been muted by Sarah running referee on them...but Sarah was not here now. 

“You...you are the man that the Force believes that Darth Revan needs and deserves. I don't know whether to congratulate you, commiserate with you, or both.” 

“I loved your mother to the bottom of my heart and soul. I still do, Dustil. I just can't...” He just couldn't keep dying and living all at the same time. He had to make a decision which one he was going with, and he'd made it with Sarah. 

“You can't keep holding on to a dead wife. Mom would not want you to. She'd want you to let go, to be as happy as you can be. But you know that. You knew her.” 

Yes, he had. He'd been married to Morgana for years, she'd been his teenaged sweetheart, and now she was gone. He wrapped his arms around his son, the young man he'd thought he'd lost, his last link to Morgana. “How's school?” He asked, letting his arms drop again after just a moment. He'd been uncertain about putting Dustil back into school, into 'normal' school, but Sarah had said it was going to be so, and that was that. Her reasons had been solid... Dustil was not going to be trained as a Jedi, and his training as Sith was done. Since he was never going to be completely one, he needed to have a foot in the world outside of them. He needed a basic education. He needed to know how to get along off of Korriban. Sarah was right with all of that. She was making good decisions from her position of trust and authority with his son. She had not been the one to send Dustil to Korriban, but she was the one to bring him off of Korriban. 

“It's school. When Mission isn't around, it's okay.” Dustil shrugged. “If I want to do things later, I need to do things now.” 

“Mission is...” Carth had no idea how to explain or sell her to his now shadowed and often standoffish son. 

“Mission is afraid. She is desperate. I understand it. I just have problems with how shrill and overly ingratiating she can get when she gets upset. That would not have been tolerated on Korriban.” 

Of course it would not be. Mission was loud and undisciplined and she wore her heart on her sleeve...she would not last a day in the Academy. But Dustil had lasted years. Carth really needed to adjust his own view of his son. He was no longer a child, no longer his little boy. But at least, right now, he was here. He was back in Carth's life and Carth could be his father. Not in the same way that he had been, but admittedly, he'd never been the father he'd wanted to be. Any chance was more than he'd had before any of this had played out. “I know. But she's not on Korriban.” And it was obvious by Dustil's expression that the young man wasn't entirely pleased with that. Of course, Korriban would have become second nature to him by now, and there had been a steely serenity and enforced calm there that Carth could see the appeal of. Sarah was naturally the same sort of person, she preferred calm around her and he knew that Mission got on her nerves the same way that she annoyed Dustil. It didn't help that Mission had taken quite a shine to him...

“Sarah will be fine.” Dustil dropped the whole line of discussion, returning to the more important subject at hand. “I have utter faith in that.” 

“And if she isn't?” While Carth was, by his very nature, an optimist, he couldn't avoid the obvious flaws in his optimism. Sarah was Revan, Darth Revan, and she had just traveled alone into the depths of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. 

“Then I call to those who still follow Darth Revan. They were on Lehon, they supported her then...they'll support her now. We'll go get her back.” 

Well, that sounded interesting in all the wrong ways. Hopefully they didn't have to go that route, but Dustil was correct. He would do it for her, in spite of the consequences in his own life.


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah woke up to silence, alone. Every person she was bound to was far away, on Brentaal, and her soul knew it. It left a vacuum deep inside of her, but she needed to face this without them, whatever this was. 

It's your trial. 

Although she knew that, it wasn't something she wanted to face. How was she supposed to defend herself when she didn't remember? She hugged the other pillow in the bed, the one on what should have been Carth's side, she'd stayed stubbornly on her own side even though he was not there. I am not going to cry. No, she wasn't. She climbed out of the bed and dressed in her under robe, releasing her hair from its nighttime braid. It was getting so very long, a thick, straight heavy fall of black. She was fairly certain she'd never let it go this far before, always choosing to cut it just long enough to be able to scrape it back into a tiny tail at the nape of her neck. Now it was a show, an exorbitance, leaning away from the functionality of her previous life. It required her to spend time on it, which was spending time on herself. It was soothing, it was new, it was something that was purely Sarah. Amasri had never had it, Revan had shut herself off from the world...hiding under a mantle and mask. 

I will not hide. To hell with what Malak had said, he'd been correct when he'd pointed out that her true face was more of a mask than her mask had been, but it was still her true face. Revan was dead and gone. I will not conceal. She scooped the mass of hair up into a loose knot with a graceful, second natured ease, and restrained it with a flurry of gleaming pins that shone against the unrelieved blackness. Her eyes were a perfect calm gray, not even a hint of muddy brown in their depths. She wore Carth's ring, her new lightsabers, and her own face. It was time to go get this started. 

It was odd to walk among so many young Jedi, the corridors were filled with them. It was so far from how she'd been raised, the Enclave had been small and remote. She'd been lucky to have compatriots from it at all, Alek had been a blessing, and then they'd been called on to help raise the generation after them... Bastila and Meetra. 

I would have done better here. Was that part of the problem? Had there just been too few of them? They'd been too close? Played on each other too damned well? Had they simply turned each other into siblings and ingrained all of the strengths and weaknesses of a fully formed family unit into their interactions? Alek had been her everything, she'd been his. They'd fed into each other, deepening the cracks when things started to break down. Alek would have died before he would back away from supporting her. Meetra had been so gifted, such a prodigy, and so damned willing to lend all that to Revan's cause, in spite of the consequences. Even Bastila, left behind on Dantooine, had played her role on Revan's behalf and manipulated those around her in the Enclave. 

I left my battle meditation adept padawan right in the middle of my greatest enemies...my own Enclave. She had to laugh aloud at the realization. Bastila's role during the War had been to keep the Masters off balance and off of Revan, and it had worked brilliantly. 

“Sarah?”

Ah, yes. Her keeper. Well, at least she'd let him get a good night's sleep. “Yes.” And she hadn't even been up to trouble. “Good morning, Luel.” She hoped that he wasn't a master, but he hadn't introduced himself as such and even if he was, she wasn't certain she could call him that. 

“Good morning.” He did look well rested and remarkably happy to see her. He must not know. “Taking a look around?” 

“Yes.” She hadn't gotten very far and this was a huge, huge place. It was much more like the Academy on Korriban in size and scope than the Enclave on Dantooine, a great, echoing edifice. “Well, this corridor so far. I haven't seen most of it.” 

“You...did not train here?” He stepped up closely, his size and her attitude keeping most of the rushing students at a safe distance. “You seem unfamiliar with the Temple.” 

“I am, mostly. I was not trained here. I spent some time here recently, but I did not wander out of the hospital wing.” And they'd been happy with that, happy to leave her in Bastila's care here. “When I was well enough to leave the hospital wing, the Order put me up in a hotel.” That had been the best for all involved and she had no complaints. 

“Hospital?” His eyes grazed over her. She knew she looked...good...well, as good as it was possible for her to look. She had never been a beauty and that was something she was mostly comfortable with and often found it useful. Having average looks made it easy to blend in, to disappear, to leave no marks on minds without even having to rely on the Force. Without the iconic mask, the great and terrible Revan simply looked like any normal human woman. Any normal, healthy, human woman, all of her scars hidden by her clothing. Carth was the one carrying the obvious injuries, not her. 

“Yes. Hospital. I was brought here a couple of months ago. After Rakata Prime.” She wasn't even certain if he knew about it, on one hand...how could he not? On the other hand, the battle had been joined in an incredibly remote area. But if she was not supposed to talk about it, then they should have told her that. And this was the Jedi entrusted to keep an eye on Revan, he was probably trusted with knowledge of that battle. 

“You were at Rakata Prime?” Yes, he'd definitely heard of it. She wondered just what the padawan rumor mill was churning out, or was it still strictly held to the masters like they tried to hold on to all of the juicy stuff? “You...?”

“I boarded the Star Forge.” There really was no other way to say it and Sarah was not in the mood to dissemble. “I was part of the team that went in after Malak.” I was the one who killed him. It wouldn't pay for all of her sins, but she'd done it. Done it for Carth, done it for herself, and most importantly, she'd done it for Alek. 

“And you want to leave us.” 

“Yes.” It didn't really even feel like 'us'. This wasn't her Enclave. These weren't her masters. She hadn't been raised here. She hadn't been here until her world fell apart. Those who had held her up through the War hadn't come from here... the Enclave had supplied the vast majority of the Jedi for the Revanchist cause. They'd been family...these were strangers. Everything about here was foreign, she'd been raised in a small compound, running wild in the grass covered hills that stretched for miles. This was as far from that as it was possible to experience, the giant Temple, and a world so built up that grass was a rarity found only in parks. 

No wonder the Mandalorians hate us...them...us. Great. She wasn't even certain which side of that she belonged on, and she'd gone to war to stop the Mandos. Of course, if the Temple got pushy with her, she'd go to war to stop them as well. 

Always your answer.

Yes, yes it was. She'd fight for her freedom and to hell with those who wanted to take it away from her. While she might not deserve that freedom, she owed it to Carth, to Dustil, to Bastila. They needed her. 

“Is this man really worth it?” 

That was laughable. Of course Carth was worth it. She had been a terrible Jedi, but she was going to be a decent wife. He deserved it. 

You are a superlative...Force user. 

Yes, but not a Jedi. There were too many rules that just didn't sit well with her. Too many nos, too many restrictions, too many things that didn't fit together correctly. She had been born a force user. She had been born a warrior. She had not been born a Jedi, and attempts to force her into that mold had meet with varying degrees of success and failure. 

The Force put me in the Enclave. The Force touched and directed everything it resonated with. She could not see where that had been an 'accident'. And if it was not an accident, then all of this was part of the Force's flow. She'd been in place to rise against the Mandalorian threat...

And you are in place to...

She never even saw it coming.


	6. Chapter 6

Luel never even saw it coming. One moment, she'd been awake, aware, contemplating his question, and then she collapsed like every bone in her legs had simply vanished. He scrambled to get a hold of her, thankful that the busy corridor meant that several hands were close by to help keep her from faceplanting herself into the floor. 

He picked her up, she was not a large person, and carried her back to the only place in the Temple that she was apparently familiar with, the hospital wing. Was this why she'd decided to leave them? Did she think so little of them that she thought her only way forward was to sever her ties with them and marry someone she felt would take care of her? They were here to do that and they'd do it happily. If she had been injured during the Battle of Rakata Prime...

“Ah. Sarah Onasi returns to us again.” One of the shadows disgorged a large, turquoise male twi'lek and Luel measured the master's statement. Firstly, the name the healer chose...he called her by the name she'd given Luel...with the addition of a surname, an oddly familiar surname, one that resonated... And that the master sounded less than surprised to see her return. “I heard she was summoned back to us.” 

“Onasi?” Luel should be able to place that name... He rested her on the bed that Wyon motioned to, a little unbalanced when the master only made certain that she was comfortably positioned. He did no exam, he checked nothing...

“Her heart is set to marry Carth Onasi. A man who will be an Admiral before the year is out. A man who will be pinned with the Cross of Glory in the same time period. A great man who has lost much in his life.” 

“But she...” 

Wyon settled his bulk on a stool next to her and simply stared back at Luel. Surely it wasn't selfish to think that she should stay with them, even though that was the hint that Luel got from his reply. He understood that the man being described deserved a lot from them, respect, support...but did that mean he deserved one of them, when that meant she would turn her back on them...leave them? 

“I am not the one who makes that determination, Luel. She does. And I suspect you will find her resolve to be awe inspiring.” 

“Why aren't you doing something to help her?” 

“There is nothing more I can do to help Sarah Onasi. The damage that was inflicted on her is...significant. The layers of it run deeply, too many have meddled with her, often counter to each other. Too many honest injuries. We are afraid to break into that. I refuse to try.” 

“I...” Luel stood beside the bed, staring down at her. She was a Jedi, the air around her sang with the Force. He could feel the lightsabers she carried...three...no, two...of them. She carried an unset crystal on her, somewhere, as well. This was a loss beyond him. “Am her counsel, Wyon, and I don't even know why she needs one yet. The Council wanted me to meet her before I was told...whatever it is I am supposed to be told. Surely she doesn't need me simply because she is injured and is trying to leave the Order. That is your calling more than mine.” He'd been brought here to Coruscant to serve as Amasri Idarn's counsel, her defense against...something. 

“No, she needs you because she has committed grievous crimes.”

Grievous crimes. Luel extended his hand in her direction. In spite of the fact that she was out cold, she was still heavily guarded, and all he could get off of her were hints, flashes of muffled darkness. Bad things, terrible things had happened around her and she'd had an active hand in many of them. But what was missing was the taint of truly grievous crimes. “Which, if she truly has, the Force has seen fit to forgive.” 

“So you say. That's between you, her and the inquiry. I'll just give testimony about how her medical problems might have contributed to her actions and how much they affect her ability to be questioned and aid in her own defense now.” 

For it to even be brought up meant that it did have a place in this, whatever this is. Luel frowned, resting his fingertips on the edge of her bed and tried to glean whatever information there was to have. She was not a young one, she'd had plenty of time to get herself in deep trouble, but the Force stubbornly and loudly loved her. She'd been chosen for something, he just didn't know what it was...but he was certain it had been a long time in the making. And now, right in what he sensed was the middle of it, she wanted to leave the Order. Surely she didn't think that would work?

He sensed one of the masters come up behind...below...him and he looked down. This one was Master Vandar, he was not from the Temple, but from the Dantooine Enclave. And Amasri...Sarah...was not from the Temple, had not been trained from it, according to her. That meant she had a good chance of being from the Enclave. Was she yet another example of the often questionable Jedi that they produced? But they'd apparently fronted the assault on the Star Forge, provided the leadership and strike team, although the details on that were few and vague. They'd provided the same against Revan's flagship...

“Ah, Sarah.” There was a depth of regret in the master's voice and Luel sighed. He didn't know the ins and outs of the Dantooine Enclave well enough to defend one of its members, but now...there was no more Dantooine Enclave, and he'd have to. There was no one else for the job. “You are Luel Antresian, I presume?” 

“I am Luel. You are one of her masters?” Well, at least he was here. At least he seemed to still be somewhat involved. At least he was still alive. It was more than Luel could say about the others. Perhaps it was better that way, but. 

“I am one of Amasri's masters.” The tiny master affirmed, and the switch between her names was very, very deliberate. Luel caught it immediately. 

“But not one of Sarah's.” 

Vandar paused for a moment before he rested his clawed hand on her forehead. “Indeed, Luel. Not one of Sarah's. And there is a large, large difference between Amasri, Sarah....and Revan.” 

Luel's blood ran cold and he stepped backwards, shaking his head. Surely...not. Revan was gone. Revan was dead...wasn't she? No, the Enclave had always used the word gone. Never dead. Their strike team had been the one to board Revan's flagship, their reports had been the ones that the Temple had relied on...

“This is Revan?” He was shocked by how calm his voice was. He was supposed to defend Revan? The Butcher? The worst traitor to the Republic in their generation?

“Amasri Idarn became the Revanchist. And the Revanchist became Sarah...who became Sarah Onasi.” There was a wealth of sadness and guilt in Vandar's voice, somehow, somewhere, there was so much more going on here than he even began to grasp. And if he was supposed to stand before the Council and defend her, he'd need to know it all...and quickly. 

“She was part of the team that the Enclave sent to board the Star Forge?” He had to get on track here, he had to start focusing on what would become important during an Inquiry. 

“Sarah destroyed Malak so that we could destroy the Star Forge. She ended it, Luel. She ended it the right way. She knew exactly what she was doing when she did it. I'm here to try to help her. And in doing that, help you. She deserves what she can make out of the rest of her life. And Captain Onasi definitely deserves it...he'll break without her.” 

That was nothing that Luel understood...he vaguely recognized the name and felt he should know it better than he did. He'd just never really given any thought to defending someone like Revan, and had most certainly never considered actually defending Revan herself. “Why did she do it?” He finally asked. It was the first question that the Inquiry was going to ask and it was his first question as well. Why, why, why?

“Why did she go to war? Or why did she fall after it?” Vandar hopped up onto the stool next to her bed and poked at her nose with the tip of his claw and got utterly no response. She was out cold, far far away from them. 

“Yes.” They were both questions that would be asked. The first, even he could argue and argue effectively... Revan had gone to war to protect the Republic. Even her worst detractors gave her that. She'd disobeyed her masters to go do it, she'd manipulated and lied, attempting to hide her actions under the dubious umbrella of the Mercy Corps, she'd committed harsh acts...and then atrocities, but everything she had done had all been focused on that goal. Until it had all come crashing down and she'd turned on the very Republic she had fought to uphold. 

Vandar snorted, dropping his long ears in thought. “One, I can answer. Amasri was a born warrior, just like the Mandalorians she went up against. It is so much a part of her that it will never be obliterated, even now, broken as she is...she still fights. We could no more change that than we could change the Force. She is what she was always meant to be. We tried to teach her to measure, to weigh, to contemplate...but we got a measured, contemplative warrior instead of a reckless one.” He hopped down, leaving her where she rested, to return to Luel's side. “As for the other...I do not know. Amasri should have been the last to fall, not the first one. She was going to be the one to remove the taint that Exar Kun had left us with in the eyes of the Temple. Our redemption. Our gift to the Order. And it all went so terribly, terribly wrong.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah came to, unsurprised to find herself in the hospital wing again. How could they consider her a threat when she spent half of her time passed out cold? It was pathetic and sad, but it was her current reality. And she dealt with reality instead of railing against it and crying that it all wasn't fair. Maybe it was fair. Maybe this was how the Force chose to punish her for her shortcomings...death was too clean. Death was too elegant. Breaking her down into this, now that was a punishment. If she didn't have Carth, if she didn't have Mission and Dustil and Bastila, the quickest, easiest, cleanest, best way to handle this would be to simply walk off of the side of the Temple. That was a long, long way down and the ferrocrete terrace below the Temple seemed particularly unforgiving. But she did have Carth, and as usual, she would hold herself together the best she could. For him. Because he deserved it. 

“I know you're here, Vandar.” Yes, she could sense him. And she could sense her counsel. Probably not the best combination to wake up to, she'd prefer Carth any day of the week. “I'm fine.”

“No, you are not.” He shuffled over to her bedside, hopping up onto a vantage point so that he could see her. “You cannot make it through this by trying to put up a good front. You cannot Revan your way through this, Sarah. You have to be honest, you have people depending you still.” 

Of course. But it was easier to lie, cheat and kill for people who depended on her. Honesty, especially now, was a murky and confusing thing to have to rely on. Is this why you did this to me? Were they going to guilt trip the Council here into releasing her? Could she be tried over crimes she truly didn't remember committing? 

“Honesty. Hey, I'm Sarah. Well, actually I'm Jedi General Amasri Idarn, the Revanchist, but I don't remember that...much...so just call me Sarah?”

He chuckled, patting her shoulder. “Yes, Sarah. Something like that.”

“The truth will mean throwing you to the wolves.” He was guilty as well. If she shifted blame, then he'd be carrying part of it himself. 

“Then we face the wolves together, Sarah. I do not shirk my responsibilities in what has happened. I am your only surviving master. I played a part in this. I just wish...” 

Or maybe you don't. Vandar had been guilty of helping to create Jedi General Amasri Idarn, the Revanchist. He'd been guilty of helping to train Jedi General Alek Squinquargesimus to stand beside her. He'd been guilty of overlooking what she knew to have been obvious, her relationship with Alek. Her bloody minded nature. But he had not been responsible for whatever it was that had happened after Malachor. That had been all her and Alek's doing. But why? That was the question that she didn't have the answer to. While she had been hardened by the War, she hadn't been broken by it. She had remained herself, Amasri, through it all. And Alek...Alek had always been a bright soul, kind, strong, good. The thought that he had gone bad was so very, very wrong. But they had both fallen and fallen hard, they'd lost themselves, they'd lost each other. They'd lost everything. And that had been their own faults. How, she just didn't know. All she knew is that she could break. She had broken. It was not impossible or even improbable. It was a fact. There was something out there that had...

“Sarah. Don't.” He tapped on her sleeve, pulling her back away. “You've met Luel.” 

“Yes, I have.” Poor guy. He'd been given quite the challenge, to defend Darth Revan for her crimes before the Jedi Council. She felt sorry for him. “He drew the short straw?”

“He is the one I requested for your defense. I am still your master, Sarah. I will still do what I can for you. You, I, and Bastila are all that is left of the Enclave. Everything else is gone.” 

And Sarah didn't know how she felt about that. On one hand, they had been the ones to cobble together 'Sarah' and try to slap a new identity onto her and use her against Malak. They had come damned close to killing her or destroying her in doing so. But on the other hand, they had been her family. They'd raised her, good or bad, from childhood. Unlike Bastila, Sarah did not remember her blood parents, she had been a very small child when she'd been taken to Dantooine. 

Except for Vandar, the Enclave is gone. They are no longer your family. You have a new family, one you love. One you made. 

But Vandar was still here. He had some of the answers to what had happened, he was here for the same reason that she was...to answer for his crimes. And he had indeed committed crimes. Sarah turned her head to bring Luel into her field of vision. He'd been silent and she knew he was farming every word they'd said, every motion, every expression, for tools for her defense. “I assume he knows now.” It made no sense to keep her defense counsel in the dark. He'd have to know he was supposed to defend Revan soon enough, putting it off did them no good. 

“I do.” He answered for himself, moving out of the shadows next to the door. “So, you're Revan.” 

“Yes. I am the Revanchist.” She sat up, pushing hair out of her face. “Jedi General Amasri Idarn. Whatever.” Those were hers. She owned them, she knew them, she remembered them. She'd done what she felt had needed to be done, for the Republic. She'd made sacrifices along the way, for the Republic. There had been no way to defeat the Mandalorians and still remain clean, a shining example of a Jedi, at least not without the support of the Order. She had responded to the Mandalorians' violence with violence, met their ferocity with a ferocious resolve. She had meant to break their assault, to break them. And, at Malachor, she'd taken it to a whole new level. But it had been successful, she'd won. The Republic was intact. It had been long and brutal and she'd done terrible things, but she had been victorious. How she had fallen well after that victory, she had no clue. 

“You're supposed to be dead.” He didn't sound at all surprised and she felt almost vindicated by that. She was Revan, and Revan came back from the dead. She had saved the Republic, and then...then she had brought it to its knees. 

“The Enclave did not permit me to die. Bastila would not let me go. I was close to death, but...” But Bastila had kept her from slipping away. And then, the masters had chosen a route just as filled with resolve and determination as her route to Malachor. Just as questionable, just as dark. 

You have to rise above that. 

Rise above herself? Was that even possible? “I don't remember.” She ended with that, it was her answer for so much. “It's all just a blank.” But she was still dangerous, she'd gone up against Malak as that blank and had prevailed. So she couldn't even claim that she was too damaged to worry about anymore. It would be so much easier if she was, if she had lost her connection with the Force. But that wasn't so...it remained firmly intact, in spite of everything. Because of everything? 

That was an interesting question, something to ponder when she had the luxury to do so. The Force didn't take sides...it loved its dark adepts the same as it loved its light adepts. It had loved her through both. It loved her through when she'd been broken and only partially put together.

What's the point of it all? If one could not claim that they were upholding the will of the Force, by fighting others supported by the Force...with the Force... the very idea made her head hurt, and not from the hazy, not allowed to see that, pain. She was a doer. Not really a philosopher... Alek had been more of that than she was. 

“Certain things cannot be known, Sarah.” Vandar chuckled. “And by your expression, you're trying to know them.” 

“I grew up listening to you tell me to be more thoughtful. And when I get there, you tell me things cannot be known...so why bother? This is why I had Alek...”

Vandar's face went still, the very air around him paused, but Alek was not something that Sarah was going to avoid talking about just because he'd become awkward and disturbing and she had been forced to free him the only way she knew how to. She'd become awkward and disturbing as well... 

Not quite as badly.

True enough. Even at her worst, her lowest point, there had been things she'd turned away from...and Alek had not. He'd bombed Telos, Taris, Dantooine. He'd given himself to the Star Forge. He'd harmed Bastila. 

“But now I have Carth.” And while he had some things in common with Alek, before Alek had fallen, in most ways he was as different as he could be. He was a gift, just one she wasn't certain that she deserved. 

“You have Carth.” Vandar agreed. “And to return to Carth means you have to convince the Inquiry that you are not an issue anymore.” 

Great. Convince them of something I don't even believe myself. Well, I've done it before. I can do it again.


	8. Chapter 8

Paperwork. The very banality of it soothed Carth, even though he was having a rough morning...which meant that Sarah was having a rough morning. He'd long since come to grips with the bond between them, he understood it as well as a non force user could, and more importantly, he'd learned when what he felt came from her...and how to distance himself from it. It wasn't that she was scared or angry, those had always been clear through how he sensed her, worse...she was stumbling. And when she stumbled, he stumbled. When she stumbled, he felt every year of his age, he felt every injury...especially the new ones, the harshest ones. He'd made it through life pretty much unscathed, physically, until recently...and then, that had all gone away. Now he was a middle aged man who'd recently been tortured and shot, and his body was more than willing to keep reminding him of that. Sarah's proximity usually banished the worst of it, he was stiff and lame, but at a fraction of what he experienced when she was distant. And it wasn't as if Sarah had come out of it untouched, she'd been chewed up just as badly as he'd been. 

But now, he was supposed to come back from all of that, put his orange jacket aside, get back in a uniform and answer to Captain Onasi instead of simply Carth. It was much harder to do than he'd been expecting, although this was what he'd been hoping for, praying for, but he'd gotten used to living in a small freighter with a few close people, he'd gotten used to panic, focus and uncertainty. They'd done drastic things on a drastic schedule. And now...now he sat at a desk and tried to make sense out of an order he'd become a stranger to. 

Thankfully, there was very little stress attached to this. He definitely got the impression that he was in a place where he was allowed to float without much in the way of supervision or expectation. Although he was not paying a great deal of attention to it, he knew his name was on the list for elevation to Admiral. And he'd heard the whispered rumors that he was a shoo-in to receive the Cross of Glory. Once, these had been his deepest held dreams, hopes he'd never even whisper aloud...even to Morgana...but now he was amazed by how little he actually cared now that he was at the brink of getting them all. 

I just want Sarah home. 

He'd give it all up in a second if that was what he would have to pay for that, but he knew they were not linked. But he still couldn't bring himself to be excited about it at all. Compared to having Dustil returned to him, compared to loving Sarah, compared to bringing the Ebon Hawk's crew home...all of them, in spite of everything, it seemed so small. So ephemeral. 

He sighed, shifting to try to get more comfortable and stared blankly at the screen before him. This was all just minor make work, minor make work that required an officer on the level of a Captain or Admiral to sign off on it, but still...make work. Of course, he'd lost his last ship and her small flotilla, he was very obviously in between postings, held in limbo by a thousand small details and a few very large ones. And, between his injury issues and lack of ship, who better to meander their way through make work that needed a Captain's signature? 

“Carth.” The voice startled him out of his reverie and he tried to stand, but only managed to get his ass a couple of centimeters out of the chair before his hip refused to comply and he fell back into it. He was left staring up at his Admiral, trying to frame an appropriate response to his staggering lack of grace. 

“Don't you dare try that again, Carth.” She stated, sitting in the chair across from him, her features set in an equal mix of concern and disapproval. “Sit.” 

“I am sitting.” And staying that way for awhile, judging by the ache. “What can do I for you?” 

She sat back, judging him and he simply waited. She'd been the one to give the final go ahead for the assault on Rakata Prime, to send the fleets up against the Star Forge, and she had done it on his request and recommendations. And then, she'd kept them in the fight on the same from him. It wasn't something he was truly comfortable with, but try as he might to think of another way...and he had...there had been no other option. This had been his Malachor. He understood that. So many had died...on his request and his recommendations. All because he couldn't see another way out. All because he had wanted...needed...to end it all. Finally, and costs be damned. He'd done it. It was over. And now he understood yet another facet of the woman he loved. He understood the burden and the lingering guilts and doubts that Sarah carried, even though she'd never admit them...even to him. Malachor had been necessary to stop the Mandalorians. She'd made that call. Rakata Prime had been necessary to stop Malak. Carth had made that call. 

“Are you going to be okay?” 

Going to be? Yes. At the moment? No. “I will be, yes. I have my son back.” She had to know that already, he couldn't see it...and the questions tied to it...not being in reports to her. How...where...had Carth found Dustil? 

“I saw that. Amazing news and I'm so happy for you...” She gave him a half smile, her austere features lighting up slightly. Her manner, her speech, let him know that this was an informal conversation and he relaxed slightly. This was friendly, not business in its purest form.

But. Carth heard the word hanging in the silence and he shrugged. “I'll get through this, as soon as they let me have my fiancee back.” It wasn't the most tactful of responses, but he really wasn't in the mood for tact. And he really wasn't in the mood to be his usual sunny self. “And no, I'm not going to contest the idea that I am not...currently...fit for command.” It hadn't been said outright to his face, but he knew it was there, behind the scenes. He was unfit...mentally and physically. He was still recovering, and now he should have the time and luxury to do so. With Malak dead and the Star Forge gone, the pressure against them should start to lift. 

“We want to give you that time, Carth. I just wanted you to know that is what this is, not a lack of faith in you. Even from what is in your reports, you've been through a lot.” There was a subtle push in that statement, but Dodonna had to know his reports had been edited by the Temple. Or he'd self edited them knowing that they would be... he'd been honest as to what he'd done...and not done...but he'd slid away from reporting about the Jedi on the Ebon Hawk's crew. Sarah and Bastila answered to the Temple, he answered to the Admiralty. If anyone was to drop the statement that Revan was not dead to the Admiralty, it should be the Temple. Not Carth.

“I don't want a ship right now.” He never, ever thought those words would pass from his lips, but they were the truth. He wasn't physically up to that yet. And he needed his personal life in some sort of order before he stepped back into those shoes again. He couldn't be called away from those obligations right now...he'd just gotten Dustil back. He couldn't ruin this opportunity. He had to stand with his family now. Dustil. Mission. Sarah... He wouldn't give a new ship, a new crew, a sliver of himself...he was a better soldier, a better officer, than that. “I have to fix things here, first. Myself. My family.” 

“Of course, Carth. I just wanted you to know that is how we see it, as well. You need time and I'm certain you've heard some of the rumors.” 

“I've heard rumors.” And if they were true, they simply added to the fact that he was not ready. There was a certain expectation from an Admiral, and that expectation scaled up drastically if that Admiral wore the Republic's highest award on his chest. “If they're true...then I'm really not ready.” 

“They're true. And you're really not ready. I just wanted you to know that riding that desk is not, not, not a reflection on how we see you. I'm glad you already see that. You can get a little single-minded on occasion...” 

He chuckled in answer. Yes, yes, he knew that already. She wasn't the first one to point out his blatant pigheadedness, but she was the most polite about it. “Wouldn't have made it to Rakata Prime and back without it.” 

“You worried me. I was certain we'd lost you at Taris with the Endar Spire. I'm very sorry about the crew, but the Jedi insisted...” 

“They were right to.” The imperative had been to get Sarah back into a place where Revan might come to the surface again, to lead Bastila to the Star Forge. The Enclave had been willing to sacrifice so much on that slim hope, but it had paid off. Much as it hurt, he could see it now. They'd all suffered for it, but it had worked. “I know there's very little in the report, and I assume they cut out parts of what I did actually write, but they were right to do what they did. Without that, we would have never found the Star Forge.” And by now, the Republic would be in its final death throes. He mourned the losses, but he understood why...now...they had been necessary.

“Hmmm.” She sounded supremely noncommittal, again, something he understood. At the beginning of this, he'd been in exactly the same place. Now he understood more, and while he had little faith in the Enclave and not much more in the Temple, he had supreme faith in Sarah's abilities. He followed Revan and he was secure in that fact. He understood so much that had been incomprehensible before and it brought a clarity that he could not share with Dodonna, even after the trust she'd shown him over Rakata Prime. He held secrets now. Hell, he had secrets now...this wasn't just a matter of holding Revan's identity close, it wasn't just a matter of holding the Enclave's misdeeds... it was a matter of holding his own failings to himself. He'd said, done, accepted, terrible things. He'd contemplated following Revan through another fall. He'd pledged himself to her knowing that was a possibility. And even now, it sat comfortably with him. Thankfully, Sarah had not called on him to make the decision, he could still be here...with Dodonna's view of him untarnished, while knowing the truth deep in his heart. Sarah had come home. But if that didn't work out, he'd follow her away from here. “Off the record, I wish they'd chosen another captain.” Dodonna finally admitted and he nodded, even though he knew it was an empty agreement. Another captain would simply not have worked. 

“Another captain would have not recognized my son.” That was the safest, easiest argument for why it had to have been him. No one would argue against bringing Dustil home. “And the Ebon Hawk's captain had to be a pilot. A damn good pilot. If I hadn't have been one...I would have never gotten the team all of the way there.” They would have never made it off of Taris, much less off of Rakata Prime. Another captain would not have recognized Dustil, and without Carth, Sarah would not have recognized him either. And, deep in his gut, he rejected the idea of someone else being the one to hold Sarah up...if another one could have held her up. That was his job. He was the one who had brought her back. “I pushed my piloting as far as it would go, Admiral, from the very beginning. And I did it in a freighter.” I dare you to tell me the name of a Republic captain who could have done it. No, it had to have been him. The Force, fate, luck, whatever, had spoken. 

“You're right, of course. It is good to hear you accept that you are one of our best, finally. You can be too damned humble sometimes. Why is your fiancee not here? She is the dark haired Jedi who was with you on the Ebon Hawk's holofeed right before we began the attack? She was injured as badly as you were, from what I understand...” 

“Sarah has been called before the Jedi Council for various and assorted misdeeds, including becoming involved with me. She'll be fine, but this has left me at home alone with the kids.” That was the view he had to keep in his mind. Sarah was fine. She'd faced worse challenges and had prevailed. They had done the impossible together, and she was coming home. To him. To the kids. They had not lost her. 

“I saw your request for new housing. I'll get that moved along as quickly as I can. I don't have much...if any...sway with the Jedi Council, but I wish you the best with them and that they send her back to you quickly. Her name is Sarah...yes, Vandar called her that. It seems like it was so long ago, but only yesterday.” 

“Yes.” The whole thing felt like that. It had only been weeks since the battle, but it felt like a lifetime ago. And only yesterday. “But we made it. And we'll keep doing so.”


	9. Chapter 9

Why, why, why was this always what they wanted? Wasn't there some other way to judge her? To know how closely the Force held her? She was vaguely aware that Luel had probably intended this to be private, but enforcing privacy in a gaggle of force adepts was a challenge. Or maybe he hadn't even tried, maybe it was as simple as weighing her health and her tie to the Force in the quickest, simplest manner possible and that he didn't care if the entirety of the Temple saw. Maybe...just maybe...he wanted to remind those who needed to be reminded that she was a...

Gift. A jewel beyond measure. Their salvation.

What? The very idea stunned her, and she tried to trace the thread. That had to be external. It had to be planted... but as quickly as she plumbed it, as deeply as she followed it, it seemed to be valid. The Force was an odd, odd thing indeed and it had always treasured her. Light, dark, painted in shadow, it loved her with the same width and breadth as Carth did. Maybe even more, because she understood that his love had limits. He thought it didn't, but she had more faith in him than that. 

“I don't understand.” She probably did, but she was in the mood to be difficult. The more people knew she was here, the less chance she could just be made to vanish. If she left a mark, an impression...something that her dueling skills were bound to do, especially armed as she was...the more people would remember her. And notice her sudden absence. 

Luel did not dignify her petulance with a response, merely igniting his lightsaber, holding it in guard and watching her through its blue glow. She sighed, measuring his stance. He knew who he faced, even if he didn't know entirely what he faced, and it showed in the way he carried himself. She gave a quick flick of her hand, palming and igniting her main lightsaber, following a moment later with her off hand, held behind her back. And, as always, in that moment...everything clicked into place. No doubts, no handicaps, no pain...just herself, held in the Force. And she knew that was what he wanted to see, and that was what he hoped would be there. So that others would see it as well. Only the Force could judge her, and it loved her. 

She engaged in an exuberant, bold flip, crossing her sabers in front of her to mitigate the push back when she hit him. He wasn't a warrior, he wasn't a duelist, he was a consular and he was doing this to give her a chance...and she'd do her best to avoid hurting him in the process. Letting go and treating him like a true threat would destroy everything, she had to show her brightest aspect, lit by the clear brilliance of the lightsabers crafted from the last remnants of the Star Forge itself...the main handed one which shone the same golden amber hue of Lehon's sun Abo, and the offhand was the pale silver of its largest moon. They had been forged for her...by her, in the Star Forge's crucible. 

I am worthy.

He rocked back, using his greater weight and strength to push her away, and responded with a crisp flurry of strikes. He was better than competent, good enough to let her fall into a dance with him. She was sharper than she'd been in awhile, she'd given herself the luxury to recover and calm down, combined with her continued work with Dustil had done wonders. Luel was a trained Jedi. His style was completely unfamiliar. She wasn't focused on him to pick out every little flaw so that she could smooth them away, as she was with Dustil. He was more than enough to bring her out of her surly, resentful, frightened shell in the best way possible. It didn't matter that there were dozens of people watching, actually that wasn't so, it did matter. It made it all the better, she'd always been a bit flamboyant. And she could feel Vandar in the growing crowd, feel the weight of his gaze as he watched her with the same intensity that she had once watched Bastila and now watched Dustil's progress. No matter what she had become, he would always be one of her masters. He remembered her from when they had been the same height, and suddenly, she remembered...that he remembered that. He had held her hands the first night she'd arrived on Dantooine, just a child...a toddler, really. He'd soothed her tears away and had tucked her into her bed to sleep it off. It was just a glimpse, a flash, a sudden bright beam but it was a memory. A real, whole and true memory that she had not had just moments earlier. It was hers, not manufactured. She would have gone through all of this just to come away with that single moment of recall... 

He'd doubled back, coming at her from her off side, testing her defenses. She typically held her offhand behind her, choosing to front most attacks with her main, but she was equally adept with the shoto as a defense until she could pivot to bring the main back around. It had been a long, long time since this had been completely right... when she'd fought the way she was most comfortable with. 

You haven't fought this way since the War. 

No, as Darth, she'd always... it was easier to push the rushing blur into clarity when she had someone holding her in place by swatting a lightsaber at her. She'd lost, or given up, her first two...sometime after Malachor. Sometime during that time when everything had fallen apart. Amasri had been armed much as she was now, but Darth Revan had used a single crimson saber...she remembered that through Bastila's recall of when she'd been part of the boarding party to come get Sarah off of Revan's flagship. 

I wasn't at my best. I was holding back. 

She'd been controlled, under a compulsion that she didn't understand or remember, but she'd still been fighting against it. She'd never stopped trying to work around it, to circumvent it, to give as little of herself as possible... She'd never given in, never given up...

And the person who'd been swatting at her with a lightsaber had stopped several heartbeats ago, leaving her standing alone in the chamber, unmolested while the information flowed. Vandar stood in front of her, gazing intently up at her...she'd been like this long enough for him to have crossed the floor to her. Luel stood off to the side, silent, his lightsaber extinguished and his expression inscrutable. She sighed, the better she looked, the more he wanted to keep her. But the better she looked, the more obvious it was that the Force worked within her, on her. And without that understanding, none of this made sense. Not that it made much sense, anyway. All she was certain of was that she'd been maneuvered, used, played into a situation that...

Only you could survive and come out the other side. 

Well, good to know, she guessed. She wasn't quite sure this was 'surviving and coming out the other side' but she was still alive. And she was, technically, on the other side of it. She'd survived the War. She'd survived whatever it was that she'd gotten into after it. She'd survived the Enclave's attentions. She'd survived the Endar Spire's crash, Taris, and everything that came after that. 

And you'll survive this.


	10. Chapter 10

Luel sighed, so much information and so little of it meant anything. Amasri had not been theirs to raise and mold into a Jedi knight, but as a member of the Order as a whole, her files had always been sent on from Dantooine. And for the life of him, he couldn't see where it had gone wrong. Certainly, they noted many of her personality traits that had helped lead her into her transformation from Amasri Idarn, Jedi knight, into the Revanchist. Stubborn. Unyielding. A tendency to act upon outrage. A willingness to get her hands dirty when she acted upon that outrage. She led from the front. 

He could see the flaws, her breaks with doctrine...he could see where the Temple would have stepped in, but the Enclave had not. She had a deep need to have close personal relationships, it was blatantly obvious throughout the entire file. And the Enclave had given her opportunities to indulge in that, one right after the other, choosing to train her hand in hand with Alek. The pair of them had been indulged, their indiscretions ignored. They had been the pride of the Enclave, their bright and shining gift to the Order, prodigies that could do no wrong. 

The disturbing thing to Luel was, that until they broke, it seemed that the Enclave had been correct about that part of it all, at least. Amasri had been a prodigy, a glowing example of the will of the Force. And Alek had shone beside her... His records were just as complete and just as bewildering. He'd been a paragon, obviously the voice of calm and reason that the Enclave had chosen to attach to the impetuous and driven Amasri. There had been logic and understanding here, solid reasons to put and keep them together. And these weren't just the Enclave's possibly biased reports of their wayward creations, but impeccable reports from those that the pair had interacted with, together and separately. Until they'd turned on the Republic, the Republic Navy could not have sung their praises any louder, been any more grateful and enamored with them. They had been heroes to those who had been fighting the Mandalorians, they'd been the saviors and leaders that the Jedi were supposed to be. They could do no wrong...until they could, and had. 

I don't understand. 

There had been flawed aspects to their upbringing and training, they'd been out of step with doctrine, but nothing...nothing...predicted their immense downfall in this. Especially Alek, who had seemed to be such a fine example of Jedi. 

Revan led him astray. 

That was the general consensus from those who knew him alone, or had known the pair of them only slightly. She must have taken him into the darkness, because he would have never faltered without being pushed and pushed hard. It sounded valid, from the outside, but Luel doubted. They'd gone into it together, of that he was certain. Something completely and totally unforeseen had occurred, something that these two prodigies, these two paragons, had no warning of. And it had destroyed them both, but there were still hints of General Idarn working under Darth Revan's actions. There was still a comparison there, decisions, directives...a straightforward strategy. She'd taken treasonous actions, but her treason had played out exactly as her assaults against the Mandalorians had. She'd been taking objectives, she'd been on an invasion path. There had been a point, a focus in her actions. 

But Alek, Alek had simply shattered under the weight of whatever it was that had dragged them down. Every hint, every clue that Amasri displayed that she was still holding on to some part of herself, was glaringly missing in Alek's actions. 

They went into this together.

But by the middle of their return, they were not together. There were massive cracks, orders from her that Alek...Malak...had defied in favor of pointless slaughter. Telos had been a prime example of that, SIS had intercepted order packets and had broken them, Revan had not been the one to order the massacre of the world's population. It had been a resource in her eyes, her orders made that clear. 

Carth Onasi is Telosian. As is his son. 

And nothing in any of this was coincidental. The focus of the Force was all over this, but it was obscured to Luel, obfuscated in murky eddies of shadow. 

Working against this is going against the will of the Force. 

He sighed again, turning his attention to something more concrete and useful. His client was completely unable to mount her own defense, and he was unable to tell the inquiry what she didn't know. It was a wonder and a miracle that she wasn't dead, that she wasn't so broken and crippled that she wasn't going to live out the remainder of her days here, in the high care ward. That there was enough left of her to even have this inquiry was difficult to believe, but he'd met her. Conversed with her. Sparred with her. Studied her most recent past, the records coming in from the Battle of Rakata Prime. She'd been the unlikely one sent in to deal with Malak and the Star Forge, and she'd succeeded. So, on one hand, she was still dangerous, still a force to be reckoned with. And, he'd seen all too clearly the other side, a vulnerable and damaged woman who was too broken to answer for crimes she didn't remember committing in the first place. 

She should have died at least three times. Her capture, Taris, and then Rakata Prime.

The assault on her flagship should have been the end of Jedi General Amasri Idarn and her dark sided reflection, Darth Revan. She should have died then. It should have been over, at least in regards to her part in all of this. But she'd survived, pulled through it by the tenacity of her padawan and her masters. He could see Bastila's refusal to let her go, but her masters' refusal was another reach from them, another sign of their willingness to bend and break the rules to do questionable things.

Well, there's no doubts where she got that from. 

No, none at all. And that willingness from them was just another facet of how people reacted to her, how much they'd do for her. That was another constant throughout this. Those around her would do the unthinkable for her, and never look back. 

I just don't understand. 

Certainly, she was brilliant. He could glean that from these files, and he'd experienced enough of her interaction with the Force when he'd sparred with her. But then, he didn't have to understand, he just had to do his job. And his job was simple...if Amasri Idarn didn't remember her crimes in any coherent, useful way, then she couldn't answer for them. It would all remain out of their reach, a mystery beyond them.


	11. Chapter 11

A stranger stared back at Sarah when she studied herself in the refresher mirror. All she had meant to do was check the color of her eyes, and if necessary, to try to force them back to gray before this all got started. But she'd never really paid attention to just how much she had changed recently. It was as if something barely tangible was fading from her features, some vague taint that had always been there being washed away. The woman in that reflection looked exactly like her, and yet, there were differences that she could not quite put her finger on. Certainly, she'd changed her hair, but that was so mundane that it couldn't just be that. 

I am loved. And I love.

Surely it wasn't that, either. Alek had adored her. And she'd adored him. But then, there was a difference between adoration and love. She would make decisions for Carth's benefit that would harm herself, and she'd do it in a heartbeat. She would sacrifice to see him kept whole, to protect him. She had not done the same with Alek. She'd 'needed' Alek, so she had put him in jeopardy because of it. Her unwillingness to protect him had brought him to his end, she'd been too afraid to face the darkness without him, yet she had been too arrogant to turn away from it and keep both of them away from it. She had thought that she loved him so much that she could not do without him, but now she understood that loving someone meant doing without them if that was what was best for them. She'd never do it again, never with Carth. She'd learned from her mistakes. 

Good. 

Of course it was good. She smoothed down the edges of the robe she wore, Luel had insisted that she come before the Council, before the tribunal, in the full robes of a Jedi Knight. She understood the subliminal statement that it created, along with the glow of the lightsaber crystal suspended around her neck. Even though she did not wield it anymore, it was a reminder as it had always been, of her rebirth, of her new dawn. I am not the same person that I used to be. 

No, she'd gone beyond that. Before, taking care of the Republic had been a concept, she'd been more driven by outrage and insult than a real desire to protect it. She'd been challenged, and yet, held away from that challenge. Now, taking care of the Republic meant taking care of Carth... who served it honorably. 

“You look...appropriate.” There was a wealth of disapproval in Luel's voice, but she ignored it. He wanted to drag this out, to go over things, to clean up her responses for maximum effect. Like she'd ever needed to work at expressing herself...that came naturally. Good, bad, or indifferent, she'd always managed to get her thoughts and feelings across to others. 

“My appearance is immaterial.” She knew what he wanted, to wrap her up in Jedi robes and present her to the Council as a Jedi Knight, as one of them. As if the masters would be so easily swayed by that. Or did he do it for her? To remind her? If so, it wasn't working in the way he probably hoped...she felt no closer to Amasri Idarn, Jedi Knight, than she had before this. While she was regaining some memories of that person, they were nowhere near complete enough to rely upon in this. All she saw was Sarah Onasi, Carth's beloved, in every feature of her own face. Her hair fell free around her shoulders, her expression was serene, her eyes were steady and an uncommonly soft gray. None of it faded in the least when she screwed up her nose and tried to glare at herself, all she felt was a deep, impenetrable calm and her face reflected that. 

“I disagree.” He stood in the room behind her. “Would you consider walking into this wearing Revan's mask? Revan's robes?” 

Well, he had her there. It would be folly to do so, it would shout an intent, a stance, that was no longer true. And that's what he was going for here, to reflect...an intent. A stance. “I am no longer a Jedi.” This was just as false a package as wearing the mask would be...

He made a disagreeable noise deep in his throat, and she craned around to get a better look at him. “I feel that making that decision so firmly now is a mistake. Things have moved very quickly for you, for us. Perhaps all parties involved need more time, more introspection, before any of us make drastic decisions.” 

She'd forgotten how damned annoying this could become. How long was she supposed to consider things before she made 'drastic' decisions? She'd already made the most drastic of them, with Carth. Even if every sin, every crime she'd ever committed would be forgiven today, she'd never leave him. “You are the one asking me to make a drastic decision.” To stay, to try to hold herself together here, to claw herself back into what they felt she was supposed to be would be the reckless path...one that would never be successful. 

“I'm asking you to make no decisions, this early.” 

She chuckled, well aware he expected her to argue. Asking her to stop making decisions was like asking her to stop breathing. She could try, she could succeed...for a short period of time. But then she'd be forced to gasp in air...and she'd be forced to go back into decision making. “Going back to Brentaal is as close to 'no decision' as we're going to get. Staying here would be a decision, you know.” Of course it would be. Any of them would be a decision, he understood that. It just happened to not be the decision that he hoped she would make. “I will not be pulled away from him, Luel.” Ah, that last one came perilously close to what Carth called her 'pissy voice', dark and ominous. A quick glance back at the mirror caught just the faintest hint of a shadowed darkness in her eyes, but it fled in a heartbeat.   
“And anyway...” She continued, her voice rising to its usual timbre. “I will never be entrusted with anything of importance to the Order again. My...career...as it was, is over.” Staying with the Order of her own 'free' will would be terrible. Enough of them here now knew exactly who she was, and what she had done, more than she did. 

“Do you feel that the Force has forsaken you?” He sounded honestly curious, confused, and she left the refresher, closing the door between her and the mirror. She'd seen enough in it. 

“Hardly. The Force has never forsaken me.” And that was part of the problem. If it forsook her when she misbehaved, then it would all make much more sense. But it never did. It seemed like the deeper she got, the more powerfully it unfurled in her. “No matter what I did. No matter who I became, it has always been with me. It's an unreliable guide.” 

That was the first comment she had ever made that she felt he really paused to consider, his brows drawing together in thought. “You feel that were guided into this by the Force?” 

Yes. Every step. 

“I am a tool of the Force.” If only she understood more, if only she had clarity to see what she no longer remembered... somehow, the answers were there. She knew it. And if she had learned those answers, why were they now hidden? She had been allowed to remember other things, but not the most important ones. But the Enclave had deliberately worked to obscure things from her, and the Force had allowed those things to remain hidden even now. The Star Forge was gone, Malak dead. It was over. 

No. 

Of course not.


	12. Chapter 12

Carth's new housing request went through just three days after Sarah had gone to Coruscant...three days with no word from her. But he knew somehow that he would be aware of things were going truly, truly badly on her end. She might have stumbled, she might be struggling occasionally, but he sensed no panic from her, no hatred or rage. He'd felt them from her before, he'd recognize them again. And he didn't get the feeling that she was trying to hide things from him, somehow he thought that he would notice that. It was a funny thing to think so much of himself that he believed that Revan would not be able to hide her thoughts from him, but somehow, he did. She felt much like she had during their time together, focused and intent to get things done, her way. That was a dangerous edge, but there was little he could do to calm her down from here. She was on her own. His job was to get the kids moved and have everything settled on his end before she came back. Hopefully that was sooner rather than later. 

He sighed, going into their room and looking around. Since he'd lost his home and family, he'd become the sort of person who lived out of a closet and a suitcase. And he'd had most of what little he actually owned with him, onboard the Endar Spire... which had fallen to Taris in the wreckage. Now, most of his belongings were what he'd gotten on the path to the Star Forge, and his issued uniforms. He pulled the majority of it all out of his closet, dumping it out on their bed. Most of it was the every day clothes of a Captain; duty uniforms, day uniforms, dress uniforms, but his fingers rested on a black garment bag distinct from the olive drab of his uniform bags. He had to smile in spite of himself, pulling it open to a waft of salt and leather. It was the last garment he would have ever bought for himself, but it was precious anyway. Sarah had bought it for him... He shrugged into the leather coat, reveling in the way it settled around his shoulders. 

“It's a good look.” There was the edge of amusement in Dustil's statement, and Carth sighed. He really needed to get used to just how silently his son moved now, how he could pop up without warning. Of course, it was partially Carth's fault for not paying attention to the time and for leaving the bedroom door open to the living space. 

“Hah.” Carth chuckled in answer. “Wasn't my idea.” No, it had been Sarah's...Revan's...during a time when she'd been very close to that part of herself. They'd been in it so deeply at that point that he'd had to just let her run with it. And she'd brought them out the other side, Dustil was here because she'd made those decisions... if she had not taken Carth to Korriban, wrapped up in this coat and the identity of her servant and gunslinger, Dustil would still be there now. 

“Pity.” Carth would be more comfortable with Dustil's answer if he felt it was a joke, but he seemed perfectly serious. “But you are correct, it does not go with Republic naval officer.” He glanced down at the pile of clothing on the bed, his expression settling into a faint question, his stance going into a cautious wait. But he didn't actually ask the question and Carth sighed in spite of himself. 

“We have new housing.” 

Dustil's expression brightened, ever so slightly. Carth was used to him being much more open, much more emotional, and it had been a struggle to get to know this version of his son. “Yes, no more sharing the living room with Mission. You'll both have your own rooms now.” Carth continued, sliding out of the coat and replacing it back into its bag. He felt sorry for Mission, left alone with her new family, while Zaalbar was finally free to return to Kashyyyk to wrap up some loose ends there. 

“Good. Any news from the Boss?” 

“No.” Carth had no illusions who Dustil considered to be the 'Boss' and it certainly wasn't him. “All quiet from that quarter.” That statement got him a long, measuring stare from his son, and he simply stared back. “She's not particularly upset about anything.” And he'd know if she was...he was a little surprised that Dustil didn't feel the same way. He was the force adept, he'd had years at Korriban...shouldn't he be able to feel his master better than Carth could?

“No. You share a force bond with her, and...” Dustil reached slowly out, resting his fingertips on the back of Carth's hand. “Something else. Something she's done to let you in. She'll never be foolish enough to do that with me. It probably happened before she started to remember, although she does seem to trust you implicitly even after that.” 

“Yet, you read my mind.” What had been done to Carth then was supposed to cut force users out of his mind, to keep him from spilling her identity.

Dustil chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I read your face. You are not hiding things like you did on Korriban.” There was the faintest hint of condemnation there and Carth snorted outright, gathering up his garment bags. 

“I will not hide from you in my own home. I'm not going to play those games.” It had been necessary at Korriban. Doing it here, now, would just be wrong. This was his home, his family. Whether he liked it or not, Dustil was still his son. Things had changed, but that never would. 

“Fair enough.” Dustil gathered up another armful of Carth's clothes, looking at him expectantly. That was another change, for all of his posturing and doubting, he was a lot more useful than he had been as a young teenager. “What? The more of this we get done before Mission comes home, the better.” 

“Where is she?” She should be with Dustil, or arriving home at roughly the same time. Carth was aware that Dustil worked on evading her, and he was quite good at it. 

“She got detention. She'll be back in awhile.” 

“Do I even want to know?” Probably not. Although he knew if it was bad, he was going to be the one to deal with it. Sarah wasn't here, and even if she was, he was hardly going to send her to speak with Mission's teachers. That was a disaster in the making. Sarah was in charge of Dustil's education, but he was in charge of Mission's.

“It's minor. She talks too much.” 

Of course that was it. Mission had a good heart, but this was so different than what she was accustomed to that he'd been expecting missteps along the way. But it was for the best and right now this was the only place she had. And he'd be damned if he didn't do his best to make certain she got the best education they could manage at this late date in her life. He was honestly a little surprised that Dustil seemed to have slid seamlessly back into school. But that was probably it, seemed. Dustil had learned how to be a student in one of the most vicious places in the universe, regular school must be a cakewalk for him. He would do whatever his master asked of him, and she'd sent him back to school. 

“Hmmm.” It was as much as he was going to say, heading for the door as Dustil fell into step behind him. They'd spend a couple of hours moving, and hopefully, they'd have everything ready when Sarah returned to them. And then they could make solid, real plans for their future together.


	13. Chapter 13

So many eyes weighing her, measuring her. Sarah wished she was better at confrontations like this, and in spite of all of the formality and wary distance here, this was a confrontation. It was only a confrontation won with words, with appearances, and persuasiveness. While Sarah was good with words, and could be very, very persuasive, these people were looking for that. And honestly, she had no idea how to turn that off. If she'd ever been taught to rein in her ability to sway others to her side, to convince them to do the impossible for her, it was a lesson she'd forgotten. But she was certain it was a dangerous tack to take here, with the Masters of the Order. They were probably strong enough to turn away, and astute enough to sense it. 

Maybe.

Well, it wasn't something she wanted to find out the hard way. For now, she'd play this on the straight and narrow. She'd be what she was supposed to be. “Amasri...Idarn. You return to us.” 

Sarah stared at the speaker for a long, long moment. She did not know this man, did not know his name, but she knew he was the current Grand Master. His aura, where he sat in the room, at the center of the seated Council members. Everything about him was a reminder of what she was supposed to have been...but wasn't. They all were. Somehow, that should bother her...or it felt like it should bother her, but it didn't. These were just spectators, never on the path she had always been on. 

“I do.” Well, sort of. She'd never been here before to return, but she knew he meant the Order, the Jedi, not necessarily the Temple. “You requested my presence here.” 

“Yes. Have a seat. Are you recovered enough to have this discussion?”

Well, that seemed to be a promising start. She wouldn't bet good money on it staying so polite, but she would be amenable to giving it an attempt, at the very least. “I am as recovered as I believe I will ever be.” It sounded dire and melodramatic, but from what she grasped, her life could often be described like that. But it was also truthful. She'd been loose for months and while she'd managed to grab back certain parts of herself, she'd accomplished very little overall. She didn't remember her childhood. She didn't remember hardly any of her early adulthood, becoming a Jedi, even going to war. She didn't become truly real in her own mind until Taris. She might be almost forty, but all she remembered was a year or so of those decades. 

“So we've been told. Sadly so. Your healers here believe you are a lost cause, unable to remain in the Order.” 

Sarah measured the statement. On one hand, her soul snarled in defiance, she'd never been a 'lost cause' in anything. She could be a Jedi, again, if she really, really wanted to be, if she was meant to be. She was a bright and shining force in her own right, but it would be counterproductive to try to claim that. If she was a 'lost cause' then maybe she'd be allowed to simply slide away, back to Brentaal, back to Carth and Dustil. But that felt entirely too easy, no...this was a test. It wasn't a lie, that was exactly what he'd been told, which was certainly interesting information, but he doubted it.  
“The only lost cause here is my commitment to the Order.” It was probably not the most cautious of replies, she could feel Luel shift uncomfortably behind her when he heard it. “And probably my ability to remember what you want me to remember.” 

That was a tack that Luel was more at ease with, she smiled at him slightly when he brought her a seat. It felt less like an interrogation when she sat, and that was a reason to keep her guard up. So far, this had all been very non-confrontational. It would easy to be lulled into a false sense of security by it. She folded her hands in her lap, well aware that the bright lights of the Council Chamber played across the ring she wore. She'd never worn Alek's ring, she'd never admitted openly to a relationship with him, she'd never truly committed to him, but she had to Carth. 

Alek was not the right one to hold you. All of your determination to make him that did not make him so. 

No, it hadn't. “I admit to the crimes, to the sins that you've called me here to face.” This was also not the way that Luel wanted to handle this, but she knew she would not have the fortitude to put herself through the battle he favored. “I admit that I broke with the Order. I admit that I betrayed the Republic and her people. I admit that I failed at everything that I ever stood for.” The words came much easier than she expected, but then again, these weren't the crimes that seemed to weigh on her soul. Alek's fall, definitely. The loss of herself, absolutely. The path of destruction she'd wreaked on everything around her once she'd lost control, positively. But the actual steps seemed so far away, so long ago and completely out of context. Their very incomprehensibility cushioned the blow. It was oddly easy to admit to atrocities that didn't quite click in her heart. “But I can't tell you why.” And that was the question that needed an answer. Why had Amasri Idarn, Jedi General, turned in such a spectacular way? How had it happened? Had she had those propensities from the start? Was she just another bad seed from a corrupt Enclave now destroyed? Had it been Alek's fault? He was the one who had shattered... No. It had not been his fault. It had been their fault, together. They'd believed that they were equal to... The bright room grayed around her but the darkness gave her no answers and things slid back to normal a few heartbeats later. No, that was still something she wasn't permitted to know. And if she wasn't permitted to know it, then they wouldn't get that information from her. Not yet, at least. 

“You truly do not know what happened.” There was a dark wonder under his statement and she stared at him. That idea shook him to his core. “You, one of our finest sentinels, don't see where things went wrong? What happened to you and Alek? Can you at least tell us when things started to fall apart? Before Malachor? After?” 

Before. We knew...something...before. It was one of the reasons why I...why I...why I gave the order. 

He was doing this, he was trying to provide a focus. And perhaps, enough rope to hang herself with? Even so, this was clearer than what she'd managed on her own. “Before. We knew...before.” And she knew that he'd seen that before she'd even spoken. He was in here with her, supporting, guiding, weighing. “Something...dark. Powerful. Conniving. We...needed to stop...it. Malachor was just an objective in that. A mid point. It would stop the Mandalorian assault and give us the breathing room to go after...it.” She was distantly aware that her hands had started to shake, her lips were quivering. She wanted to run but it was as if she was pinned into her seat. He was really going to make her see it again. She couldn't. It would break her. She wasn't ready. It was too soon. This had to stop...now. She was breaking, she was dying, she was falling...again... Carth.

It suddenly dropped and she launched herself from the seat, too blind with panic to sort out which direction to even run in. She wasn't certain how she ended up in his arms, but she did, wrapped up and hidden in his robes while she wailed and sobbed into his chest, clinging to him like a child in the throes of a night terror. 

“She doesn't know.” He stated firmly when her sobs abated to the point he could be heard over them without raising his voice. “They found something before Malachor. Everything I see shows that they were determined to confront it, but they needed to stop the War to leave. Malachor was expedient. Malachor was, in her mind, justified because of what they found. Just one more battle in a war. It wasn't the end for them, just one more stage leading up to the end. And what they found was too much for them to handle. They were both arrogant and righteous, they believed they could do it, should do it. They were wrong and it crippled them. Alek died for it, but she has been given back to those who deserve her.” 

“Deserve?” Vandar sounded wary and Sarah agreed with him completely. Was she supposed to be some sort of punishment? Penance? Carth had committed no crimes to deserve that. Dustil had been a child when he'd been taken from Telos...he didn't deserve anything terrible, either. 

“That is what I got. It's all very obscured and dark, she doesn't understand it well enough to show me more. She isn't able to answer the charges against her, too much is hidden for that. And she believes that she answered a threat in the best interests of the Republic, that she had been maneuvered into a position where she was the only one who could answer that threat. We wouldn't support the Republic against the Mandalorians, she had no reason to believe we would support her against this...threat...whatever it was...is.” 

“What threat?!?” Another council member, Sarah could only hear her, she must be the one on the side, the regal twi'lek... 

“That remains to be seen. All I get from her is darkness, compulsions, loss. But she's certain it's still there. I trust her in that.” He moved a half step back, pulling his physical support away from Sarah, but he was still close enough to hide her from the Council, to be within grabbing distance if she stumbled. “No. We cannot pry it out of her. Chances are, we'll destroy her and then we will lose the only person we have who has the slightest idea of what we're even looking for. She knows. Sarah...”

“What?” So far, she agreed with pretty much everything he'd said. 

“What are you asking us for? What do you want?” He reached out slowly, cupping her face in his hands and staring into her eyes. His were brown, warm and gentle...much like Carth's were. Carth...

“I want to go home. To Brentaal. To be with my family, I don't want...I can't...be anything else right now.” 

He nodded, dropping his hands to his sides and moving back to his seat. “Then go home, Sarah.” He sighed, resting his chin on the back of his hand. It was obviously not the reply that the Council, or Luel, had been expecting but there were no complaints. “On one condition.” He finally stated and she steeled herself for it. What could he want? What was she willing to pay? 

“And that is?” 

“You are not leaving the Order. You can go to Brentaal, you can marry Captain Onasi, you can guide the children who look to you for that. But you are still one of us. And you will serve us, as you are meant to...as one of our Sentinels. You will watch for that darkness that only you will recognize. Watch for us. Watch for them.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Done with Coruscant. Back on Brentaal ~2200, flight 12A. Love you, Sarah.” 

Carth wasn't sure just what to make of Sarah's terse message, except for the obvious. She'd been gone for just a handful of days, and she was 'done' with Coruscant? Did she mean that she had left it without permission? That this was a frustrated 'done'? It seemed to be the most valid answer, there was no way that the Jedi Council could have concluded their trial of Revan the Butcher in less than a week, could they? Especially one that ended with her release...he must be missing something. 

“Dustil.” 

“Hmmm?” Although that sounded almost stereotypically teenaged lacking in enthusiasm, Dustil gave him a full measure of attention, staring at him over the edge of his school screen. Carth passed him the message and was unsurprised to see immediate doubt and suspicion in his son's dark eyes. “I...don't feel anything hidden in this. Nothing beneath the words. This came in the open?” Dustil finally admitted, closing his screen and standing, moving towards the expansive windows that looked out on the base's shipworks and landing yards. He closed his eyes, resting his palm against the glass and taking a deep breath. “She feels fine. But again, she may be masking. I may not be able to read her correctly through that. You?” 

“I get nothing out of the ordinary.” But Dustil was the force user, he wasn't...really. He knew he was tied to Sarah, but he wasn't able to manipulate that on his own. 

“So...what do we do?” Dustil stepped back, waiting for instruction. Carth still found that odd, sometimes it felt like he was living with an ensign and not his teenaged son. What do we do? What do I do? Dustil expected him to lead, and that was usually a role he was comfortable in. 

“For now, nothing. Tonight, you and Mission go to the Hawk and wait there. Just in case.” Just in case. That would put them close to where he'd be picking Sarah up at, if she even showed up. And if she didn't, then they'd definitely need to be there, because they'd be leaving. Once, the very idea of throwing away a two decade career, of desertion, would have never crossed his mind. He was just months away from what was pretty much a guaranteed promotion...to Admiral. Probably just weeks away from receiving the highest honor that the Republic military gave, but the words fell easily enough from his lips. He'd changed so much that sometimes he barely knew himself. And Dustil did not so much as blink or pause at them, giving him a sharp nod in reply. For years, Carth had been struggling to be loved by his own son, and in those years, he'd never seen respect, only resentment. But there it was, more than just a hint of what he was striving for. It wasn't why he'd made the decision, and hopefully this was just overactive paranoia, that he'd be right where he was tomorrow morning...with Sarah. But if he wasn't, that would be where this led. 

“Understood.” 

Good. Carth didn't want to have to explain, not that Dustil needed much explained to him anymore. “I'll see you later.” He would go into the office today, ride a desk and act as if everything was normal in his life. He'd get as much done today as possible, focusing on those things he'd already started or those that needed his particular attention. Again, just in case. 

He went into work and it was easy to be just as he had been before... he'd been distant, held apart because of his newness in his position and the fact he'd never tried to settle into what he understood was supposed to be a temporary posting. And he had come with an obvious injury and a new reputation of being a bit of a dark soul. It had not been deliberate, but now it worked in his favor. He was left undisturbed in his office, able to plot and plan. Since he was verifiably not dead, all of his accounts had been unfrozen when he'd returned to duty. It wasn't a huge amount, but substantial enough, especially with the earning potential of the Hawk. He played with it, not drastically enough to trigger flags in the system, just enough to make it look like he was cleaning house and taking care of his responsibilities... creating accounts for Sarah, Dustil and Mission, fattening those with credits. Nothing at all out of the ordinary, nothing that he wouldn't have done anyway, given more time. It was all easily covered by plausible deniability, he was just taking care of his new, or newly recovered, dependents. He left at the same time he'd become accustomed to, took his usual path home, and once the door shut behind him, galvanized into action. He packed his and Sarah's belongings, checking the kids' rooms...but Dustil and Mission were gone, as were their things. Good, good. Now, all he had to do was eat dinner and wait. 

When it was time, he gathered his deck jacket off of the back of the couch and stepped out, traveling to the civilian star port to wait for her arrival. He did his best to seem calm, even though he watched and weighed everything around him. All he had to do was see her, then he'd know. 

The doors slid open, the first through was a glut of naval officers in uniform. He recognized none of them and that seemed to go for them as well, none of them gave him a second look as they passed by. It saved him from having to come up with pleasantries while still keeping an eye out for Sarah. 

She appeared in the opening and he studied her warily. She looked fine, she looked damn good...oddly so for someone who had gone to Coruscant for trial. Calm, at ease, hints of a smile crossed her features as she nodded her way through her final checks. He got absolutely no feelings of threat from her, no warning in the glance she gave him. But she looked much more like a Jedi than he was used to, and that sat uncomfortably with him. Had it gone badly in the way he'd never considered before? He'd been expecting a trial, condemnation, but had the Order managed to bring her back? Change her mind completely, in only four days? She'd left telling him that the Order would never bring her back, she was going to stay with him if possible, but there she stood... in muted gray and maroon short robes, her lightsabers blatantly displayed at her hips, her hair up in a severe knot. Of all the things Carth had planned for, this was not one of them and he had no idea how to proceed...

“Hey.” She greeted, giving him a smile filled to the brim with reassurance and he was not reassured in the slightest. “No kids?” 

“I wasn't certain if we were staying, leaving or leaving in a hurry. They're on the Hawk.” 

“Oh. We're staying. Everything's fine.” She sounded almost as if she was trying to convince herself of that and he gave her a dubious look, then shook his head. No, not here. Not now. If she said they were staying, then he'd believe her at least until they had a chance to discuss it fully. “We go get them?” 

“Sure.” That would put them headed towards the Hawk. If this was just an act, if she was being watched, it would give her an opportunity to let him know. If she was, she didn't seem in a hurry to warn him, spending her time staring pensively out of the windshield. Maybe if she actually seemed like things were fine, he'd believe her more. But she'd spoken through the Force to him, put her words directly into his head before. Wasn't that secure? Could another Jedi 'overhear' that, even between them? As he understood it, they had a bond...but that was a bond he didn't completely understand. He sighed, taking the back way through the yards, headed towards where the Hawk was parked in her inactive vessel berth, unsurprised to see the faint glints of her ramp lights on low brightness. The kids had begun the first stages of a power up, exactly as he expected. “I'll go get them.” He said, after parking and waiting for a few moments to give her the chance to get out, to go into the ship, but she didn't move. 

Dustil met him immediately on the inside, tilting his head to the side as he studied the vehicle she waited in. “Well?” He demanded and Carth shrugged in answer. 

“I don't know. She's back. She says we go home, so I guess we go home.” Carth only wished he understood what was going on, because he still had the urge to make his way to the cockpit and start the engines cycling for real. But he wouldn't do that without Sarah, and Sarah had very deliberately not come onboard with him. 

“If that's what she says, then yes. I still don't feel any real warnings off of her. I'll go get Mission.” 

“Right.” Now he was beginning to feel foolish, had he completely overreacted? No. Sarah had a way of letting him know when he had, there was a bounce to her head, an arc to her brow, a vague smirk on her lips. She'd had none of those, she just felt distant and disagreeable. Things had not gone exactly as she'd planned, or more probably, as she had hoped. But she was back, the worst thing he could imagine had not happened. Or it had simply been put off until later, but if that was the truth, she'd be right behind him on the ship. They'd be running, just like his mind was running. 

He felt the engine power die, then Mission and Dustil appeared, both carrying small bags. Mission had obviously expected them to flee, to the point where she'd settled down to wait in her pajamas. It was almost enough to make Carth laugh outright, but he held it to himself. Sarah could probably sense his flitting, inconsistent mood, but he didn't want to stir things up if he didn't have to. 

“Hey, kiddo.” He stated when Mission gave him a quick hug. “We're staying put.” For now. He was not surprised when she replied with a noncommittal shrug, she'd be perfectly happy leaving Brentaal and this 'new life' behind. He knew it hadn't been easy, but he still felt it was the right, best way to handle it.

The kids settled into the vehicle, Dustil pointedly remaining silent and insulated from Sarah. Mission followed his lead, but Carth could feel her confusion and doubt. She was expressive and outgoing, she'd love to hug Sarah, to let Sarah know how happy she was that Sarah was back with them. That needed to wait, though. He drove in silence, pulling up in front of their new quarters building. Sarah glanced up at it, the faintest ghost of a frown, of a question flitting across her features before her expression closed down again. So that was how this was going to go. It was bad, he just wasn't certain how bad it was yet, or exactly what parts of it were bad. 

She followed him up silently, simply glancing around the main room of the apartment. He knew it was still sparse, still institutional, but it was nice. It was nicer than anything he'd had except for the home he'd had on Telos, after that, he'd been a mid level officer without dependents, he'd never warranted more than a small apartment. That had changed, and this was the fruit of that change. He'd hoped for a little bit more excitement, contentment from her, but he wasn't going to get it. 

That thought must have filtered through to her because she gave him a pained look, moving close enough to weave her fingers in with his. “It's very nice, Carth. I'm sorry, I'm being terrible.” He pulled her in, wrapping his free arm around her and letting her proximity wash over him. Now that she was focused on him, he could feel her pushing back against his dread, his uncertainty, and he snorted in amusement. “Yes, yes, yes.” She grumbled, “I know that you know. But stop worrying. Things are not as bad as you think they are.” 

“Hopefully you are correct.” He paused as the kids moved through, headed for their rooms. “I just want things to work out.” It came out sad and resigned and he would have taken the last words back if he could have. 

“Hmmm. So this is the new place?” She pushed away from him, stalking around the main room, running her fingertips along the wall and peering intently out of the windows overlooking the shipworks. 

“R.H.I.P.” He chuckled and she nodded in answer. It was weird to have the rank to get these privileges. “Come on, let me show you.” He was eager to please her, or at the very least, make things slightly less dire. She'd tell him eventually, probably when she was certain that the kids were not going to interrupt. She followed him, gazing around the kitchen, the 'fresher for the kids' side of the apartment, and then stepping into the master bedroom. He knew it was beige highlighted with tan, but he'd been waiting to do anything with it. Even though she had been raised Jedi, and beige highlighted with tan seemed to be a favored palette for them, she was openly flamboyant and he'd never seen her deliberately choose any sort of neutral hues. Even now, wearing robes, she was in much richer, bolder colors than the norm. And it seemed like she had lost patience with those, dumping them onto the tan tiles of the floor with disdain, kicking them without ceremony into the corner. Her hair followed, she released it from its tight twists and scrubbed her fingers through it, trying vainly to create mayhem. It fell back into its normal fall, straight and full, completely without chaos and she growled her disapproval. 

He dropped his shoes on the floor and stretched out on the bed, admiring the show. It was like watching her peel away a false front, revealing the truth again. This was his Sarah, clad only in a slip of an undershirt and skin tight shorts, her hair free around her shoulders. He welcomed her when she climbed on the bed next to him, resting her head in his lap. It was a joy to stroke her hair, to feel her finally begin to calm down, relaxing into a heavy weight on him. “Well?” He asked when she had been quiet for a good, long time. 

“I have not been released from the Order.” Her voice shook and he closed his eyes. They had sent her home just to tell him goodbye... “Yet, I am not serving in the Order for the most part.” 

“I don't understand.” He'd never paid that much attention to what went on in the Order, in their temples and enclaves. He'd never needed to know before becoming involved with Sarah, and they'd never invited the scrutiny of outsiders. 

“I belong to the Order. I can call myself a Jedi, openly. I can call upon them for aid and care. I will begin to draw a support payment. They will keep an eye on me, in case I become ill again. But, for the most part, I live my life as I see fit; with you, with the children.”

It sounded almost too good to be true, but. “Sarah, if it's the money...” He had very little understanding of how Jedi aged, it seemed as if they were cared for internally, which meant that Sarah had been raised with the understanding that her service would be rewarded with care. No pension, no retirement, even after her years of service on the front lines. She'd jeopardized all of that to respond to their pleas for assistance in the first place. It didn't matter that she was broken, he was in a position to be able to care for her without the Order's care or support. He was well aware that she would probably never be able to hold a job, but that didn't matter. It was somehow fitting that Revan, broken from the war and whatever had come after it, would become a Navy dependent. They had begged for help, she had helped, and he was certain that had been what had set her on the path to her downfall. 

“It's not the money, Carth. I... may have led the way in, but I also led the way out. We...you and I...saved the Republic. I'm just fine with them paying me for it. I worked myself into believing that I was going to a trial, another showdown with a Council, and it got ripped out from underneath me with the finest show of reasonable I've ever seen. I don't do reasonable well.”

That was an understatement and Carth laughed out loud, burying his fingers in her hair. Always the warrior, it seemed like the best way to completely unbalance her was to deny her the option of a fight. She was intrinsically good at fighting, at struggling, both with a weapon in her hand and with her words, but she floundered when she couldn't fall back on that. “So, that's it? They want to put you out to pasture? I guess we can deal with that.” It was a crime, a shame, but he was in the mood to be selfish enough to go along with it. 

“I served as a Sentinel for the Order. My job was to watch, and look, and to get into things. I'd say I succeeded at the last part perhaps a little too damned well. I know I got into something I shouldn't have. The problem is that we don't know what it was and I can't remember it. They want me to watch for it, because I will be able to recognize it.” 

He tightened his fingers in her hair. The last time she'd gone looking for it, she'd fallen and destroyed a large section of the Republic in her wake. He loved her, desperately, but he'd desperately loved his wife as well, and she had been killed in that destruction. He could forgive Sarah, but he could never completely let himself forget just what she was capable of. He knew that better than almost anybody. “We are not going looking for it again.” 

She shifted, making herself more comfortable. “No. Not going looking for it again, my dear.” They were the right words, and he knew she meant them, but she also shared a hint of doubt along the bond. She wouldn't go looking for it until or unless she felt forced to, compelled to. And that was as good an answer as he was ever going to get. She couldn't promise him completely without knowing. And she couldn't know without going. It was just something he was going to have to deal with, one more thing that came along with the very messed up package. But he couldn't stop loving her, he wouldn't...even though he knew it was dangerous and brilliantly foolhardy.


	15. Chapter 15

Sarah woke to silence, somehow Carth had managed to get out of bed and leave the room without waking her. It was a trick that Alek had mastered, but Carth was the first non Force user she'd ever had any sort of a real relationship with. He shouldn't be able to twitch without her noticing it, but he did, often. It was even more disturbing that Mission had left the apartment without her realizing it, there was nothing quiet or subtle about that one. Dustil...well, yes, she expected him to do it, unless she was deliberately trying to track him. The Force hid him, it was how he'd managed to swim through Korriban, unremarkable and overlooked. It was such a gift, he was such a gift. Almost as much a gift to her as his father was. Less of a gift, however, was the apartment his father had been given. Something about it set every nerve she had on edge and she couldn't pin down exactly why. She'd been...somewhere...like this, before. She'd been...held...somewhere like this before. Held? Not quite the right way to think of it, but she was certain it wasn't a place she'd chosen to be...

A sharp rap on the exterior door jolted her out of her reverie, thankfully, and she sighed, focusing on it. Bastila. Well, at least it was someone she was comfortable being her own unpleasant self in front of. Carth was usually that, but he was striving to be secure in his position as 'provider' and the last thing she wanted to hit him with was the statement that his issued housing reminded her of some vague place she might have never even actually been in, but knew it was bad. Somehow. Maybe. 

She pulled the door open, ignoring Bastila's expression as the younger woman caught sight of her clothing...or rather, lack thereof. She wasn't roaming around outside in the open and Bastila had already seen her anyway, but Bastila could be a little bit of a prude at times. Nothing new there. 

“I received a message from the Temple on Coruscant.” Bastila stated without condemnation or greeting, stepping inside of the apartment and closing the door firmly behind her. “I need clarification from you as to some of the details.” 

Sarah grumbled, headed for the kitchen. It definitely sounded like Bastila had already had caf, she seemed wide awake and focused. It was the same sort of focus that Carth had been wound up with the night before, all ready to go, ready to run, ready to fight. She understood it perfectly, but it was misplaced at the moment. “Which details, exactly?” She asked, pulling cabinet doors open with a vengeance, searching for what she needed. 

“They freed you and sent you back here. You weren't even there long enough for a trial. Not a real one.” 

“There was no real trial. And yes, I have been freed.” The kitchen was a mystery, hiding all of its best secrets, but Sarah finally found what she was looking for, starting the caf machine with demanding speed and precision. “I was not released from the Order, not jailed or censured.” Both were good things for Bastila. “I maintain a position within it, under my current name.” And if Bastila's master maintained that, then Bastila's position was secure. For all that Sarah was ill at ease with what had just occurred, it was the absolute best thing that could have happened for Bastila. 

“How did you work that? And how long will it last?” 

Sarah had to snort in laughter, despite herself. Bastila truly, truly believed she was strong enough to sway the entire Jedi Council on Coruscant? Believed she was capable of that level of full on force manipulation of those around her? Sarah had no idea why, she'd fallen so many times in front of her, failed so terribly, all she deserved was condemnation, not another chance. But she'd been given one anyway and she intended to make the most of it. 

“I did nothing.” Now that she had succeeded in starting caf she headed back for the master bedroom, searching again until she'd found the duffel bag that Carth had packed her clothes in. She pulled out an outfit, feeling Bastila's presence in the doorway behind her. “Nothing at all.” 

“I don't understand.” 

“That makes two of us. I am to watch for what I only I will know. That which I have forgotten, but I would remember if I sensed it again.”

“Oh.” Bastila's voice was small and Sarah knew her mind had gone exactly where Carth's had. Did everyone around her think she'd completely lost her mind along with her memory? She'd gone after it...whatever it was...before, and that had been disastrous. She was in no hurry for a repeat performance. 

“I'm not going after it.” No, yes, maybe...or it would come after her. She just wished that she could be as confident about that as she managed to sound. All she was certain of right then was that she didn't want to go after it. And that was the best that they were going to get out of her. It was the best she was going to get out of herself. 

“Good, good. You don't feel that you're being played? By the Council?” 

“Played? No. Watched? Definitely.” And that was fine. Let them watch her. Let them watch her live out a perfectly normal, boring life. That was enough to make her chuckle aloud, the very idea that could be an option was laughable. It wasn't. She knew better. This was a reprieve, that was all. “Bastila, I don't know how to be a housewife.” That was true, but she also had no idea how to be anything else, either. She'd never been raised to be anything but a Jedi, never been raised to be anything but a warrior. Her best housewifely gift was the ability to make caf strong enough to wake the dead. 

“You need this, Sarah. You need time, you need rest. You need Carth.” 

Yes, yes, yes. Yes to all of that. But that didn't mean that she had to accept it so easily. She couldn't even rely on buried memories to see her through this, this was completely and totally new to her. “I can't stand this place.” 

“This place? Brentaal? Or...” Bastila waved her hand to encompass the living room. “This lovely example of military issued housing? I can see that it is not to your usual taste.” 

“Definitely not. And it reminds me of some place I can't remember. But I know it was not a place I wanted to be in. It was during...then.” She fixed two cups, offering the second one to Bastila and moving to stare out of the windows. This was supposed to be the easy part, the calm after the storm. 

“Oh. Sarah, it looks like every other apartment you're going to find on Brentaal. Unless it feels bad? What is it that bothers you about it, exactly? Can it be fixed? Or do we need to move you?” The younger woman prowled the common areas with a deep intent, obviously feeling for something that could have raised Sarah's concerns. 

“I don't know. I...” She pushed away the clanging memory and focused on the here and now. No, nothing, just an apartment, there were traces of past residents but those were truly faint and none of it felt traumatic or off-putting. “It's how it looks. It's so...dead. It makes me feel numb inside.” She'd been numb, she'd been broken, she'd been... No. She snapped away from that path. “Carth is so proud of it.” 

Bastila sighed, shaking her head. “Of course he is. But you and I need to deal with the problem. If it's dead to you, then we'll bring it to life. Fill it with all of the things you love and not say a word to him about it.”


End file.
